


Bang Bang!

by CrowKing



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Assassins & Hitmen, Escort Service, Eventual Smut, F/M, Modern AU, Petyr runs a serious ass prostitution house, Prostitution, Ramsay is an assassin, Ramsay is his own warning, Slow Build, The Boltons are Hitmen, long fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-06
Updated: 2018-01-06
Packaged: 2018-11-09 17:04:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 25
Words: 69,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11108982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrowKing/pseuds/CrowKing
Summary: Games of Thrones/ A Song of Ice and Fire Modern AUThe Red Wedding happened a week ago. Your boss, Petyr, insists on celebrating the men who "won" this victory, the Red Kings, an assassination group run by the sour-looking Roose Bolton. You, one of Petyr's favorites, is tasked to find out more about these Red Kings. Who are they? Who are their clients? Who is next?You're very good at what you do until you meet him. What do you do? Girls like you can't fall in love. Does the Pretty Bird fly away with him? Or does she ruin the Bloody Bastard and everything he has?- I love modern GOT AU fics that are well done and this one is one of the most entertaining I've read so far. You stayed true to much of the canon and it's an incredibly refreshing read.-Oh my godddd i love this fic so muucchh <3 <3 i always hated ramsay like crazy but the fic made me curious and now i love him uuggh. i love this whole world you've made and everything is so interesting i love it- I'm far too obsessed with this. I look forward reading this more than I look forward to seeing my family (Is that bad?).





	1. The Oncoming Storm

**Author's Note:**

> Audio Inspiration: "Cookie Thumper" by Die Antwoord (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vw3zVsVZID0) 
> 
> Hope you enjoy the fic! Please leave any and all comments or concerns below! Thanks! :)

The soft sheets you laid on were warm. You tugged on the thick duvet. The clean linen smell from it still filled your nostrils. You could softly hear the winds outside hitting the branches. You half-opened your eyes to see the curtain slightly open to reveal outside. 

The gray and cloudy sky indicated it was going to rain soon. You closed your eyes again and half-smiled to yourself. If it was up to you, you would stay in bed all day.

But it was not up to you. Nothing was.

You heard a knock on the door. You decided not to answer, you knew he was going to come in anyways. You heard a door opening with footsteps that followed.

“(Y/N),” you heard Petyr Baelish say. “It’s time, you need to get ready.” Petyr wasn’t any relative of yours, but your boss. However, both of you have spent so much time together, you thought of him as an uncle of sorts. 

You opened your eyes and looked at the man. His age showed through his white hair on the sides of his head. He wore a formal suit. You eyed the little bird tie clip he had on. “Do I have to?”

“Yes,” Petyr nodded. “You have to. You are a part of my collection. It’s vital that you are there with me.” You were one of Petyr’s favorites. You never made love to him, but you did have a large clientele who paid a lot of money to be with you. 

You never liked the word prostitute or whore. It felt degrading. Escort, companion, sometimes lady of the evening were words you used to described what you did. Petyr had a collection of favorites he always brought with him everywhere. 

You groaned and got out of bed, reluctantly. You were never a morning person, but Petyr insisted on you coming to this important event. Whoever they were, they had rented out Baelish’s headquarters entirely. 

“When are we leaving?” you asked, rubbing your eyes while walking to the shower. 

“Two hours,” Petyr said. “I expect you to look your best. We need to impress our guests. It’s a private party tonight.”

Guests.

The word played around in your head as you stepped in the shower. Although, you pretended to be stupid for clients, you paid attention to the news. Catelyn and Robb Stark of Stark Industries were murdered at the wedding of Catelyn’s brother. The world was shocked. Why would anyone murder philanthropic, family-oriented, good people? It made no sense. But those people didn’t know what you knew. 

The underbelly of the wheel was a dark one. You knew the Lannisters. Their gold lions are beautiful, but their teeth are still sharp. You even met Cersei on one occasion. She wasn’t too nice to you, but she did offer wise womanly advice. “What’s between your legs could start a war, use her wisely.” You knew what kind of people they were. That’s why you weren’t surprised to hear the dreadful news of their deaths. 

You stepped out of the shower, and began your routine to get ready. You wanted to look perfect, not for Petyr, but for yourself. You held yourself to a very high standard. Especially, when you knew you were doing more than just one job today.

In the underbelly of the wheel, people talk. You get valuable information all the time. It wasn’t hard to find out the dirty deed doers behind the Red Wedding. They dubbed themselves the “Red Kings”. They were an assassin group led by the Bolton family. You assumed they were your esteemed guests of the night. 

You slipped on a tight, red dress and a pair of heels. You hoped that a house full of assassins wouldn’t be as bad as it sounded. 

As you walked downstairs of the Bird Cage, you noticed all of these other girls in the lobby area.  
Some of them were virgins. Some of them were experts. All of them looked at ‘the favorites’ as if you were spoiled. Ros brought over a cup of coffee for you.

“Hm, seems they woke up on the wrong side of the bed,” she commented. You took the cup and sipped it.

“I don’t mind,” you said. “They can stare all they want.”

“Sometimes I think you’re too forgiving,” Ros said. “Some of them would kill to be one of us.”

“I almost did,” you joked.

“Are you talking about that fellow from New York?” Ros smiled. You chuckled and nodded. 

You heard two snaps, and turned your head to see Petyr walking into the lobby, expecting you and Ros to follow him. She also wore a red dress like you. Sometimes you both liked to coordinate your outfits. Her dress really complimented her flaming red hair. You loved your hair, but you always admired hers. 

Both of you followed Petyr to his main office. Petyr left other senior escorts in charge of the other girls. You knew Petyr wasn’t just here to appease to the Boltons and the Red Kings. He had ulterior motives. He always had ulterior motives. Ros and you shared a look before Petyr said anything. 

“Girls,” Petyr addressed. “The Red Wedding has opened many opportunities to us. We have been serving the Lannisters for quite some time. We want to make sure their new friends, the Boltons, feel welcome. Why do we want this?”

“So, they don’t murder us?” Ros’ accent came out. 

“No,” Petyr replied annoyingly. “We want them to be our friends. They can help us, and we can help them. Understand?”

“Yes,” you both said. 

“Good,” Petyr smiled. “I’ve heard that the Bolton family was paid handsomely for their deed at the wedding. They’re going be in a good mood. They’re going to brag. Some of my friends would be interested in what they’re bragging about.” Ros smiled in her usual cocky way, but you remembered this was house of assassins. You didn’t want to underestimate them.

The Bird Cage was one of Petyr’s mansions hidden in New York City. Petyr had the property tricked out. Not only were there several bars and dancing areas, but also game rooms and a bird aviary. Petyr told many people how this establishment rivaled the Playboy Mansion in LA.

Ros made four tequila sunrises to share with you while you waited for your guests in the basement bar. Neon lights and spotlights lit up the empty floor. The guest DJ started to play warm up music. 

You heard thunder outside. 

“It’s going to rain,” you said to yourself. Ros raised an eyebrow.

“You seem awfully concerned about the weather today,” she commented. You leaned into Ros.

“I don’t know. Something doesn’t feel right,” you said under your breath. “Like there’s this storm coming.”

“Maybe because there’s literally a storm coming?” Ros smiled. “You’re getting nervous for no reason. We’re just here to make Petyr look good. It’s those other girls that are here for the Red Kings.”

You watched Petyr walk in with two girls by his side, followed by the first group of the Red Kings. Some of them wore suits, other wore a t-shirts and jeans. However, you noticed that each of them had an “X” tattooed on their left hands. 

They filled the basement. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Ros check out two of the Red Kings. You couldn’t tell which ones she was looking at, but you did admit, some of them were nice to look at.

“Roose Bolton,” Petyr greeted out loud. Roose Bolton didn’t look too intimidating. He donned a normal suit, and stood in front of his men. His eyes looked straight into Petyr’s. 

“Petyr Baelish,” Roose smiled. Except it wasn’t exactly a smile. His face contorted into one. You now knew why Roose never smiled; it was a mess. You wished you never seen him smile ever again.

“Welcome to the Bird Cage,” Petyr smiled. “As you can see, many of my pretty birds are here with me. I’m sure they will enjoy the company of your men.”

“I’m sure they will,” Roose replied. “Can we begin this soon? My men are very eager to get started.”

“Of course, straightaway,” Petyr smiled. Roose nodded as an approval, and his men started to order drinks and flirt with girls. The DJ start to blast an even house song throughout the area. 

You couldn’t stop looking everywhere. 

“Hey, chill,” Ros said. “You’re getting me all nervous. Stop that.” 

“Sorry,” you apologized. Ros and you looked on as one by one each of Bolton’s men picked a girl and off they went into a room in the mansion.

Ros and you made your way onto the main floor. You looked on as a Red King caressed another Pretty Bird, and she led him into a private bathroom. 

One of the blonde girls teased two of them. They couldn’t decide who could have her, so they both took her away. She giggled and smiled as she left the room. It seemed that the private event was off to a good start.

You couldn’t shake the paranoia you were experiencing. Something was off here. Rain started to pour down on the windows behind you. 

You looked around the room, and everyone seemed to be having a great time. You turned to Ros, opening your mouth when there was a loud bang. Everyone turned to the noise and there he was. 

You knew Roose had a bastard son, but you never met him. His dark brown hair was everywhere as if he just came from a fight. He was drenched from the storm. Water dripped down his nose.

“Ramsay,” Roose said behind you. You turned to see Petyr keeping a straight face, but his hands told a different story.

“Hello father,” Ramsay smiled. “Am I late to the party?” 

“Yes, but we are just getting started,” Petyr smiled and side-eyed Ros. “Why don’t you join us?” Ramsay walked over to you all. The closer he got, the less you paid attention to the storm outside. His blue eyes scanned the room as if he was searching for something. 

“I hope both of you don’t mind,” Ramsay said, brandishing a knife to everyone. “I had a little trouble getting here.”

“Ramsay,” Roose scanned his son as you did. You noticed the torn clothing and his cuts. Some were still bleeding. “What happened?”

“I told you, father,” Ramsay smiled, dimples and all. There was something sinister about his smile. It was the same smile you would see on a lion killing their prey or a murderer looking at their victim, proud and satisfied. “Traffic and the weather.”

“Let’s get you cleaned up, hm?” Petyr said, breaking into the conversation. “(Y/N), why don’t you get him some new clothes and clean him up, yes? Good.” Your eyes grew wide, and you turned to Petyr to object until you felt a hand on your wrist.

You immediately turned back to see Ramsay holding you, inches away from your face. Lightning hit the ground and you jumped back.

“What’s wrong, little bird?” Ramsay said to you. “Afraid of a little rain?”


	2. Staring

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Audio Inspiration: I'm So Sorry by Imagine Dragons ( https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D0gddT_DDzQ&t=136s )

_“Let’s get you cleaned up, hm?” Petyr said, breaking into the conversation. “(Y/N), why don’t you get him some new clothes and clean him up, yes? Good.” Your eyes grew wide, and you turned to Petyr to object until you felt a hand on your wrist._

_You immediately turned back to see Ramsay holding you, inches away from your face. Lightning hit the ground and you jumped back._

_“What’s wrong, little bird?” Ramsay said to you. “Afraid of a little rain?”_

“No,” you said a little too quickly. “Follow me, please.” You led the way through the Caged Bird towards one of the upstairs bathrooms in the east wing. His hand held on tight to your wrist. You didn’t mind, men have held you in worse positions before.

Both of you were quiet as you head up the steps. You heard the sounds of lovemaking in some of the rooms. Their moans didn’t bother you, they relieved you. As long as these assassins were kept happy, no one would be hurt.

You led Ramsay to a full size bathroom. The windows went from the ceiling to the floor, allowing a full view of the occupants. The rain clouded over the city, so both of you had some privacy. Ramsay’s blue eyes scanned the city.

You went into the connecting bedroom, grabbing a shirt and pants for Ramsay.

“Does the little bird have a name?” You heard Ramsay from the bathroom.

“(Y/N),” You said, walking back inside. You almost dropped the spare clothes in your hand. Ramsay already took off his shirt. His upper body was more impressive than you wanted to admit.

Two deep cuts were on his right shoulder. His chest was decorated with a tattoo of a winged beast holding a knife and his family name in his claws. His muscular arms and stomach were toned. His left arm had a tattoo sleeve of various things including the “X” on his hand.

Ramsay leaned his body against the cold windows. He knew you were looking. He nodded his head to the window.

“Enjoying the view?” he asked.

“Yes, I mean no. I’m sorry. I mean yes,” your words jumbled out of your mouth. You were better than this. You were smoother than this. Why were you all nervous now? You set the spare clothes down on the porcelain vanity. “These should fit you.”

“You have spare clothes around?”

“Not me, Petyr buys them,” you said, going into the cabinets to grab a first aid kit. “He likes to think of everything for his clients.”

“I believe that. He’s bending over back-ass-wards for my father,” Ramsay laughed. “He may as well suck his cock.” You walked over to him holding a soaked towel. The smell of alcohol stung the air. “Is that rubbing alcohol?”

“Yes, now come here,” you said, stepping closer to Ramsay.

“You’re going to clean the cut with that?” he asked, almost smiling.

“Yes?” you gave him a confused look. Ramsay shook his head.

“No, we’re doing this my way. Get me that saline under there.”

“But I—

“Get it.” Ramsay shot you a demanding look. You turned in a huff and grabbed the saline solution from the cabinet. You handed him the bottle. With a satisfied smile, Ramsay headed to the sink and poured the saline over a towel. He pressed the towel into his shoulder.

“So what really happened?” you asked pacing around the bathroom.

“You heard me, traffic,” Ramsay took off the towel and tossed it onto the floor. “I wasn’t lying.”

“So what happened then?”

“I was driving here when someone cut me off,” he started to explained as he put on the shirt. “I was going to let him get away with it, until I saw the plates.”

“The plates?”

“You’re a whore, you know about the Frey Brothers?” You frowned at his use of the word ‘whore’. Ramsay noticed. “What?”

“I don’t like that word.”

“But that’s what you are, you know that don’t you? You’re a whore,” Ramsay stepped closer to you. “You are a whore. A prostitute.” You gripped the switchblade hidden in your garter.

“Stop that.”

“Stop what? I’m calling you what you are,” said Ramsay closing in the space between you. “I could do a lot worse, you know. I could be a lot worse.” You unleashed the blade from your thigh and pressed the blade to his neck.

“Get away from me,” you threatened him. “Or I’ll—

“You’ll what? Slice my pretty neck?” Ramsay finished your sentence. “Let me finish my story. As soon I as saw it was the Frey Brothers, I rammed their car to the side of the road. One of them was injured enough, but the other two were up for a fight. That’s fine. I do like excitement in my evening. Their problem was they brought knives to a gun fight.

“I shot the first one square in the chest. The second one nicked me in my shoulder twice. He almost got the gun out of my hand. Then I shot him in the head. He fell over like a doll, useless and breathless. So, if you think for one second I’m scared of your dull blade to my throat, darling, you are dead wrong.”

You stood there stunned. Ramsay was a top assassin and you just threatened him. He wrapped his hand around your knife-wielding one and slowly took it away from his throat. You stood there, almost frozen. Ramsay darkly chuckled.

“You’re not the first lady to hold a knife against me,” Ramsay let go of your hand and exited the bathroom. “I’ll see you downstairs, (Y/N).” You shook off the frozen feeling and put your switchblade back in your garter.

“Dull blade? It’s not dull. That bastard,” You made your way back to the raging party in the main areas of the house. Left and right, you saw your own peers dancing and flirting with the Red Kings as if they had no idea what they were capable of. Maybe they didn’t.

You watched Ros flirting with one of them as well, but she caught your eye. She gave the Red King a quick kiss and a smile and nonchalantly walked over to you.

“(Y/N), I was so scared, what happened?” Ros grabbed your arm and she led you away from the party.

“It was interesting.”

“Interesting? You walk away with the Roose’s bastard son, the cruelest Red King of them all, and you tell me that it was interesting?”

“He called me a whore.”

“Oh you hate that word,” Ros said immediately, overexcited to hear details.

“So I put a knife to his throat.”

“You what?” Ros gasped, throwing her arms down. “Are you fucking kidding me? Why would you do that? Wait, what did he do?” Ros quickly checked you over. You grabbed her hands.

“I’m fine. He didn’t hurt me.” You said, trying to quell her fears.

“Oh thank God,” she responded. “So what did he do?”

“He mocked me. Said my knife was dull and that he wasn’t scared of me. He also said that I wasn’t the first girl to hold a knife to his throat.”

“What an ass,” Ros said. “Did you get anything from him?”

“Get what?”

“Information, gossip, you know?” Ros said, trying to keep it between you both. Your mind went back to the Frey brothers.

“Remember how Ramsay came here injured? I know why,” you looked around before you stepped closer to Ros. Seeing no one, you continued. “He murdered some of the Frey Brothers. They cut him off, and he recognized their plates. He rammed them. It severely hurt their driver. He shot the other two.”

“Have you told Petyr this yet?” Ros asked. You shook your head.

“I think I’ll tell him after, like tomorrow morning,” You said. Ros opened her mouth and then closed it. Her eyes stared at something behind you. You turned to see you were not alone anymore. Ramsay leaned against a wall, watching you carefully.

You and Ros walked away from that spot, mentally deciding to not talk about any more sensitive information anymore. You grabbed yourself another drink, and tried to enjoy the evening. You watched Ros go back to same Red King and “fall” into his lap. She laughed and he responded by rubbing himself against her.

You hung around at the bar, still feeling a sense of heightened danger. Something was off about Ramsay. The way you responded to him, the way he intimidated you, or how his body looked. No, you were out of your mind. You couldn’t be attracted to someone like that. You felt a tap on your shoulder. You turned to see a brown-haired, suit wearing gentleman.

“Excuse me? I noticed you were alone,” he smiled. “I was wondering if I could get you a drink.” You showed him your drink in your hand.

“I’m covered, thanks,” you replied. The gentleman sat down next to you.

“I’m Dom. Domeric Bolton,” he said to you. “What’s yours?”

“(Y/N),” you responded. “Did you just say Bolton?”

“(Y/N) that’s a lovely name,” Dom smiled. “And yes, yes I did. I’m Roose’s son.”

“I didn’t know Roose had more than one son. I apologize,” You took another sip from your drink.  
“No offense taken. I saw you met my brother earlier. I take it he wasn’t too kind to you?” Dom’s smile was warm and inviting. His eyes were as light as Ramsay’s but they showed kindness, not violence. Dom was very different from his brother.

“No he wasn’t,” You pushed a part of your hair behind your ear. “I’m sorry. You seem a little too nice to be one of them.”

“I get that all the time,” Dom said. “But to be fair, I don’t do much of the ‘field work’ if you catch my drift.” You nodded.

“So what do you do? I mean, you are Roose’s son. You must be important to them,” You leaned in closer.

“Well, I’m j-just my father’s left, no, right-right hand man,” Dom stuttered out. You giggled. If you couldn’t get anything from Ramsay, his brother will do.

“Tell me more,” you touched Dom’s tie and played with it. As he started to spill more about what he did for his father, you looked over his shoulder to see Ramsay watching the both of you from afar.

He had a beer bottle in his hand. He moved the bottle around in circles, like a ticking clock. He caught your eye and he smiled at you. As if he knew exactly what you were doing. He could come over and stop the flow of information at any moment, but he didn’t.

Dom kept talking to you, and you only half-listened to his words. Your eyes kept going back to the cruel bastard. You watched swing the beer bottle back, gulping every ounce of the liquid. He threw the bottle on the floor without a care.

He only stared at you. You figured there would be girls by his side, but there were none. You tried to turn your attention back to his brother, Dom, but it was too late. He was in your head now.


	3. Seduce Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! I meant to post this earlier, but you know-life happens. Anyhoo, I do intend to keep my "post on Monday" schedule. But I am willing to hear anyone out. Is that too much time between each chapter? Are you guys enjoying this? Please let me know :)
> 
> Audio Inspiration:  
> I Will Possess Your Heart - Death Cab for Cutie (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MErvAr0yT4s)

_He only stared at you. You figured there would be girls by his side, but there were none. You tried to turn your attention back to his brother, Dom, but it was too late. He was in your head now._

The afternoon sun peeked through your curtains. You could care less. You nursed half a hangover, and you didn’t care to see any of the Red Kings leave. The backlight of your cell phone lit up your face under the covers. A tone played, and you saw the notification.

Boss Man: [Come to my office at your convenience.]

One advantage of living in the same place you worked is all you had to do is walk to Petyr’s office. Your feet made it to the floor. You slipped on a simple pair of jeans and kept your bedhead hair the way it was. 

On your lonesome walk to Petyr’s office, you heard and saw no signs of the Red Kings anywhere. You mentally thanked the maids who worked here; also mentally noting all the girls should pitch in for a nice gift for them. 

“(Y/N)!” Ros said behind you. She held two to-go cups in her hand. She looked so much more professional than you did. She had on a pencil skirt with a cute white blouse. 

“Seriously?” you said, gesturing to yourself.

“Oh stop. I only look like this because Peytr had me run errands. Here, take your tea while it’s hot,” Ros handed you your cup. You hummed and took a sip of the perfectly-warm tea.

“You’re too good to me,” you said.

“You’re my best friend, it’s in our contract,” Ros replied. Both of you entered the office. Petyr kept his personal office too neat. His office could be mistaken for an IKEA model. Obscure sex decorations, computer and keyboard dust free, and an air refresher plugged in an outlet letting out a lavender scent.

“Good afternoon girls,” he greeted without looking away from his computer. Ros and you took the two seats in front of his wooden desk. You drank more of the tea. The headache slowly faded away. 

“I assume that’s an email for Cersei?” Ros questioned. “She told me before I left that she would be emailing you of her concerns.”

“It is,” Petyr said. “I’m finishing it up now.” With a few more clicks and a satisfied tap on Enter, Petyr faced you both. Ros went first. 

“Last night I spent the better part of my evening with the Red King, Logan Cerwyn. He was not one of their top assassins, but he revealed a lot to me.” 

“And?” Petyr said.

“They have a waitlist. A list of people that are going to die. The Red Kings get a client, they get a name, and they put the name on the list. Once the name is crossed off, they get paid.” Ros explained.

“Did you happen to get any of those names? Or when they are going to die?” 

“No. Like I said, he was one of the low-ranking men. He does as he is told,” Ros went on, leaning forward. “His next assignment is watching over the Greyjoys. He is being sent to the east coast to spy on them.”

“The Greyjoys? Interesting. What about you, (Y/N)?” Petyr asked you. This was it. You could tell him what happened with Ramsay. You remembered what happened in the bathroom. You could still smell his cologne. “As I remember, I sent you with Ramsay to clean him up.”

“He killed three member of the Freys,” you said. 

“Three?” Petyr mouthed. He sat back, eyebrows knitted together. “It was his assignment then.”

“No,” you responded, shaking your head. “He just did it. Nobody told him to do it. He just killed them. He wanted to. He said it was exciting.” Silence took over the room. Ros looked down. Petyr folded his hands.

“This is what he told you?” 

“Yes,” you said. Petyr looked you over. 

“Did he hurt you?” 

“No,” you said. Ros shot you a look. You both knew you weren’t telling the whole truth. “I did speak with Roose’s other son, Dom. He doesn’t do much of the field work, but he told me about the waitlist too.”

“What do you know of the waitlist?”

“Same things as Ros, but Dom is in charge of it. He maintains the list, and gives the assignments. However, he told me if Roose owed a favor or they were paid extra, then that particular name could be moved up the list.” You told Petyr. He smiled, tracing his thumb across his bottom lip. Something was cooking in his head. 

“Thank you girls,” he back to his computer. “Both of you go get ready for tonight. Your regulars are expecting you.” Ros and you walked out of the office. She tugged at you and pulled you close.

“Why didn’t you tell him? Why didn’t you say Ramsay threatened you?” Ros asked. 

“I don’t know. I guess it just wasn’t important,” you shrugged. “He didn’t actually hurt me. It’s fine.” Ros was right. You should have told Petyr. But was Ramsay a real threat? He never hurt you. If anything, you were the one to threaten him. You were the one to hold a knife to his throat. 

You shook your head. It was best to forget it all. You were never going to see Ramsay again. Petyr’s affairs were his own. You never questioned or asked about them; it didn’t concern you. As long as you had a warm bed, food, and a bit of fun, everything was fine.

Later that evening, you waited in your bedroom. Several pillows decorated your bed along with numerous candles. You sat at a dinner table with fruits, chocolate, and champagne. Everything was ready for him. Your heels clicked at the floor as you scrolled through your phone. You heard a Lorde tone play over your phone.

Rossy: [I always feel like Walder Frey’s actual sons are pity fucks, don’t you?] 

You chuckled at her text.

You: [It could always be worse.]

Rossy: [You’re right. It could be. I could sleeping with Cersei’s son.] 

You: [Rich boys always tip well. Joffery could be a good fuck.]

Rossy: [I doubt it. I heard he threw a tantrum at Mar a Lago. What kind of a man throws a tantrum over golf and knows how to fuck well?]

You heard footsteps coming closer to your door. 

You: [You’re right. I g2g. The Banker is here. Ugh. I might cringe.]

Rossy: [Good luck.] 

The door opened to Olyvar, one of the homosexual birds here. He was blonde-haired, blue-eyed with a lean body. He looked like a Greek statue and a Dorian Gray painting wrapped into one man. He stepped into the room with another man behind him.

“Evening, (Y/N),” he smiled at you. Olyvar was another one of Petyr’s favorites. He was one of two male favorites. “Mr. Kress is here.”

Matthew Kress was a loan officer at a bank. He had a wife and his wife’s dogs. He enjoyed a juicy steak now and again. He disliked tardiness, interruptions, and sharing. He laundered money for his own gain, and he was one of your regulars. He walked in and sat down at the table. He had no bags under his eyes, and his fat hands grabbed at the chocolate first. 

“Good evening, Mr. Kress,” you greeted. “How was your day?” 

“Same old,” he said very kindly. He reached for your hand across the table and you let him hold it. “You remember Patrick, my new PA?” 

You nodded. Olyvar closed the door behind him. Two guards were posted at your door. Once he left, you two were left alone.

“He screwed up my meetings again. I almost didn’t come here tonight,” he explained. You gasped.

“What?” you said sarcastically. You rubbed his hands with your fingers. “What happened?”

“He mixed up the days. He had on my schedule that I was supposed to see you yesterday, not today. Tonight, he scheduled a business dinner with a client.” 

“What a disaster,” you said softly. “But you’re here now.”

“Yes, I’m here now,” his voice was filled with phlegm and mucus. He adjusted his glasses and scratched the top of his comb-over. You rubbed your finger in circles on his hand.

“Would you like a drink?” you poured him and yourself a glass of the champagne. He took the glass and toasted with yours. You watched him drink it all and his eyes flutter. He slouched in his seat. You stood up and went behind him. Your hands gripped and massaged his shoulders. He moaned in response.

“Every day I want to thank God for you, (Y/N),” Kress said. “You’re so good. You’re so, so good.”

“I try my best,” you smiled. You watched your relaxing influence take over him. As if every time you exhaled, he inhaled your energy.

Suddenly, you heard some shouting and banging outside your door. Kress’ eyes shot open. He sat up in the chair. Both of you listened carefully. There was more banging and a final thud. You felt yourself back away from the door and reach for your nightstand where a dagger was. The door opened.

“Hello again,” Ramsay greeted smiling. 

“Who are you?” Kress yelled. 

“Does it matter?” Ramsay said. “I’m not here for you. I’m here for her.” Ramsay smiled your way and winked.

“Is this a joke?” Kress yelled. “What is this?” You rushed to Mr. Kress. 

“Yes, it’s a joke. It’s nothing. Why don’t you sit down, Mr. Kress? I will be right back.”

“No, you won’t. You are staying right here. I want security,” he demanded. Ramsay laughed out loud. 

“You want security? I just knocked them out,” Ramsay kept laughing. 

“Boy, I can have you escorted and banned from this establishment,” Kress threatened. Ramsay stopped laughing. He stepped closer to Mr. Kress, closing the space between them. Ramsay’s knife made its way onto Mr. Kress’ gut.

“I wouldn’t make empty threats against me if I were you,” he said lowly.

“I don’t make empty threats,” Mr. Kress said. 

“Prove it,” Ramsay grabbed Mr. Kress by his collar and threw him out the door. Mr. Kress fell on his knees outside your room. Ramsay closed and locked the door behind him. Soon, you heard Mr. Kress kicking and hitting the door. 

“Ramsay, what are you—

“I wanted to say hello,” he said. “I was in the neighborhood. Thought I drop by, but I can see that you are occupied.” He gestured to Mr. Kress outside.

“You’re going to get me into trouble. You have to go.”

“Go? I just got here,” Ramsay made himself at home grabbing a strawberry and collapsing on your bed. “I think I’ll stay. Besides, isn’t that your job? To make me feel ‘at home’?”

“Yes. I mean, no. Not you,” you scrambled. “Please Ramsay I could get into really big trouble if Petyr finds out.”

“Finds out about what?” Ramsay teased. 

You heard he door open to Petyr, three guards, and Mr. Kress. All of them staring at Ramsay.

“Mr. Bolton,” Petyr greeted. “I’m going to have to ask you to leave. You disturbed my guests and assaulted my security team.” You watched Ramsay smile with mischief again. You rushed over to him.

“If you leave now, I’ll make it worth your while. I promise,” you whispered into his ear. Mr. Kress narrowed his eyes.

“What are you doing?” He asked.

“Don’t worry, Mr. Bolton is just a friend, Mr. Kress,” you turned back to Ramsay. “Wait around for another forty minutes and I’ll be outside by the side door. Just do as Petyr says.” Ramsay smiled at you. 

“I’ll go. You don’t need to escort me,” Ramsay put his hands above his head. He took one last look at you before he left. Petyr watched every move of his before leaving. You were going to have to explain yourself. 

After forty-five minutes of complaining and massages, Mr. Kress left in a huff. You rushed outside and found Ramsay leaning against his car, a black Lamborghini. He bit his lip.

“You’re late,” he said.

“Mr. Kress wasn’t too happy. He was under the impression that we were more than friends. I had to assure him that we are only friends.” Ramsay hummed.

“Friends? So we’re friends now?” Ramsay said. You wanted to laugh, but you held yourself back.

“What did you want?” 

“I wanted to see you. Didn’t I make that obvious?” 

“Yes, you did. A little bit obvious,” you smiled. “But so soon?” Your eyes met Ramsay’s.

“I guess I missed you,” Ramsay admitted. “As a friend, I mean. What about you? You said you would make it up to me.” He was close to you again. You smell the same cologne from the night before.

“May I see your phone?” Ramsay handed over his cell to you. You typed in your number and handed it back to him. 

“There, now you can tell me hello whenever you want. Happy?” You waited for a response. Ramsay started to type away at his phone, and you heard a tone go off.

“There, now I’m happy,” he said. 

“I have to go back inside. Message me ok?” you said walking away. You looked back over your shoulder to see Ramsay get in his car. You heard another tone on your phone.

[Unsaved Number] : I’m going to see you again. Next time, I won’t cause a fuss. Goodnight, little bird.


	4. Stalking

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hellooooooooooooooooooo everyone! A couple of things before you read...
> 
> 1\. After really thinking about it, I want post more frequently. So, starting NEXT week I will be posting on both Monday and Thursday. I don't want to burn out on this story, but to be honest I'm really enjoying writing this so i don't see that happening.  
> 2\. Should I post this story elsewhere? i do have a personal tumblr, but I could make another side-tumblr dedicated to my fanfics. What do you think? Is there anywhere else I should/could post this story and others to?  
> 3\. *drumroll* MY BEST FRIEND IS GETTING MARRIED THIS SATURDAY!!!! I am a huge nut about her wedding. I'm also her maid of honor <3 So, i will be extremely busy this entire week. I'm so excited guys. You literally have no idea. I'm so happy for her. So, please forgive me if I happen to post the next chapter late. 
> 
> As always, leave any comments, concerns, or cool stuff for me. I love reading them :D
> 
> Audio Inspiration:  
> Every Breath You Take - Chase Holfeder (Police Cover) (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0PLNsymQi3Y)

_“There, now you can tell me hello whenever you want. Happy?” You waited for a response. Ramsay started to type away at his phone, and you heard a tone go off._

_“There, now I’m happy,” he said._

_“I have to go back inside. Message me ok?” you said walking away. You looked back over your shoulder to see Ramsay get in his car. You heard another tone on your phone._

_[Unsaved Number]: I’m going to see you again. Next time, I won’t cause a fuss. Goodnight, little bird._

It had been a couple of days since the ‘interruption’. Petyr didn’t scold you like you thought he would. In fact, he said nothing. Your clients kept visiting as usual. Everything was normal. You tried not to think twice about it. 

“I’m going to have a mimosa, what about you?” Olyvar asked. You typed away at your phone. “What am I chopped liver?”

“Sorry,” you smiled. 

“So, how is the assassin _friend_? Hm?” Olyvar leaned forward and waited for an answer.

“It’s not like that,” you shook your head, almost giggling. 

“Yes it is,” Olyvar said, he looked up to the waitress. “Mimosas for the both of us, thank you.” 

“I never said I wanted one.”

“We’re gossiping now. It’s the law that we have mimosas,” Olyvar continued, crossing one leg over the other. “So, tell me about him.”

“He’s interesting,” you found yourself trailing off. You thought about the last couple of nights and the conversations you had with him. He told you nothing about his missions or the Red Kings. He did tell you how much he missed you. It was clear he had something on his mind, but that something wasn’t free.

“Interesting how?” Olyvar pushed the subject further. Ros had done the same yesterday. All of your friends had. 

“I don’t know if I should say,” you said, sipping the drink.

“Did he kill anybody new?”

“I don’t know,” you whispered, not wanting to bring attention to your conversation. “We don’t talk about that.”

“Then what do you two talk about?” Olyvar asked, leaning forward. 

“He says he misses me. He wants to see me again.”

“Uhm, wasn’t the Red King party only a week ago?”Olyvar said, sipping his mimosa. 

“What does that supposed to mean?” 

“You know exactly what I mean,” the waitress came back. Olyvar smiled and looked up at her. As he ordered his food, another ding came from your phone. You looked down to see the notification.

Ramsay: [Can I see you tonight?] 

You: [No, I’m booked for the night. I can’t.]

Ramsay: [That’s what you said last night. I’m getting tired of these excuses.]

You: [It’s not an excuse. It’s my job.] You put your phone down, sighing. You had to see Mr. Kress tonight. You could already hear him complaining about work, but you put up with it. Among all of your regulars, Mr. Kress has been your longest. He had been with you for almost a year now. 

Most of your regulars come and go to move on to someone else. Ros took some of your regulars before. You never minded. Petyr’s favorites weren’t competitive, all of you were supportive of each other. Sometimes Olyvar would take one of your regulars, you were never surprised. It was clear some of the men that came here were hiding something. The Bird’s Cage wasn’t made to be an actual cage, but a place where people could feel loved and comfortable.

You zipped up a short lacy-white dress. You turned your back to look at yourself in the mirror. You looked absolutely adorable. Your hair was in a loose bun. Your heels weren’t as high as they usually were. Your clutch purse matched your earrings. 

But you felt bad. You heard the same tone from your phone. It had been going off all day. You knew exactly who it was. 

Ramsay: [I want to see you tonight.]   
[Can’t you just ditch your appointments?]  
[Why aren’t you answering me?]  
[Answer me. Just ditch your appointment and see me.]  
[Stop ignoring me. You know you don’t want to see him.]

You put your phone in your clutch and left your room. He was right. You didn’t want to see Mr. Kress. He always made you work to make him happy. He was so unpleasant. He took you out to lovely restaurants which was a silver lining. New York City was full of delicious foods and drinks. However, Mr. Kress lacked manners in public.

“How long do we wait for service around here?” he shouted out loud. 

“Mr. Kress please,” you pleaded. “It’s dinner hour. They are busy.” Mr. Kress scoffed. You had only been there for no more than ten minutes. The Italian restaurant was filled with couples. You understood why. Each booth was small and intimate. There were no centerpieces, so couples had a full view of each other. 

The lights hung above you looked like stars in a sky. Soft Italian music played in the background. You heard more of the servers clinking glasses as they carried them. Soon, your server arrived to the table. 

“Finally, we’ve been waiting,” Mr. Kress expressed his anger towards the meek-looking server. “We’ll have a bottle of your best.” The server scattered off. You frowned.

“Mr. Kress, I think you may have scared the poor thing,” you said.

“Tch, he deserves it. The service industry has gone downhill ever since your generation started to go into the workforce, but I don’t blame you, (Y/N). It’s your generation that lacks class. Not you.” You smiled as best as you could. 

“You ordered a bottle of the best. Are we celebrating?” Hopefully changing the subject would make this dinner go more pleasantly. 

“You don’t remember? It’s been a year since we met,” Mr. Kress’s smile beamed at you. “I wanted to take you out to celebrate.” Your smile mirrored his.

“Of course,” you recalled. “It was one of Petyr’s showcases.” Along with private parties for his close friends and any allies, Petyr hosted showcases every year to show off his birds. Every year had a theme. Last year it was freak show. Girls hung from the ceiling. Other girls were lucky enough to be mermaids in the pool. Even Petyr got into the theme and dressed up as a ringleader. You dressed as a girl with three eyes and four arms. Mr. Kress thought your costume was so unique and he latched onto you immediately.

A bottle and a pair of glasses arrived at the table. Mr. Kress poured you and himself a glass. He held up the glass meeting yours.

“To us and the beautiful relationship we have created,” the glasses clinked and you politely sipped at the wine. It was rich, cold, and delicious. This part of being an escort made you happy. Bread and salad were put on the table, and you started eating. The fresh ingredients of the lettuce, tomato, and cheese hot every palette in your mouth. Your clients have taken you out to lavish restaurants all the time. Each time, the food was delicious. You and the rest of Petyr’s favorites secretly kept a notebook of restaurants. You ranked each one and left reviews behind for the others. You couldn’t wait to write about this one.

Another tone played on your cell, but you ignored it. You had to. You couldn’t answer the phone right in front of him. Especially not when the last time you and Mr. Kress were together was a disaster.

“You, my dear, were the best decision I have ever made,” he kissed your hand. “I remember the first time we were together. You were so sweet.” Unfortunately for him, you did not feel the same. Another tone went off again. 

“You know, you have been my longest regular,” you said. “Usually, most men get bored and move on.”

“I’ve seen that. You don’t bore me,” he reached for your hand and caressed it. “My marriage is so unhappy. I was so unhappy and then I met you, and everything changed.” You felt a punch in the stomach. You wished you realized it before. The gifts, the expensive dinners, and now. Mr. Kress was in love with you. That cannot happen. You smiled politely, and let him go. Another tone played. “Someone is trying to reach you, tonight.”

“I’m sorry,” you apologized. “I can turn it off if you like.” You reached for your phone and turned it off and placed it back in your purse. Mr. Kress smiled.

“Thank you. I was starting to think your mind was—oh no, not him. Not again,” you turned your head to see who Mr. Kress was staring at. Your mouth opened and you couldn’t close it.

“Ramsay?” 

“Hello,” Ramsay said as he grabbed a chair from behind him and joined you both. He plopped himself down and took Mr. Kress’ glass. He filled it with the expensive wine and drank it all in one go.

“What are you doing here?” Kress said. He glared at him until Ramsay answered. You still sat in shock. How did he know you were here? 

“I came by to say hello. Someone wasn’t answering me,” Ramsay looked at you. He was satisfied with your reaction. You closed your mouth. You were going to remain calm. 

“It was you. You were texting her!” He pointed and wagged his finger in Ramsay’s face. Ramsay smiled menacingly. 

“Yes, yes it was me! Oh how horrible I am!” Ramsay laughed in his face. 

“Don’t mock me, boy.” Kress growled, but soon after the words came out, he winced. His eyes widened and his breath stopped. 

“Go on, look under the table, little bird,” Ramsay told you. You lifted the tablecloth to see Ramsay holding a gun towards the Mr. Kress’ crotch. “Keep your hands on the table and don’t speak. If you do, you’ll be sorry.” Mr. Kress nodded his head. Ramsay looked towards you.

“Care to tell me why you weren’t answering me?” he asked.

“I’m working. I can’t—

“You deliberately ignored me. I watched you,” Ramsay interrupted. He watched you from outside the restaurant? How long had he’d been out there? 

“I didn’t do it on purpose. How did you know I was even here?” you told him. Ramsay smiled.

“I tracked you, (Y/N). You made it so easy,” he said. “Is this what I have to do to get a text back from you? If it is, it’s been very entertaining.” You didn’t know what to say. You didn’t think he would track you here. 

“You said you wouldn’t make a fuss again,” you pouted, hoping the softer approach wouldn’t lead to anything violent.

“I did, but you didn’t answer. What else am I to do?” Ramsay frowned. “I wanted to see you. Is that such a hard thing to ask?” 

“No, I guess. But, I am supposed to respect my clients and give them my attention,” you stated. “If you were my client, you wouldn’t want me on the phone when I’m with you, right?” 

“I suppose,” Ramsay said, nodding. Mr. Kress scoffed. Ramsay dug the barrel of the gun deeper into Mr. Kress’ pants. His breath hitched. “Tsk, tsk, no talking.” Your eyebrows knitted together. You had to diffuse this situation before it got any worse.

“I’ll go with you, we can leave here,” you said immediately. 

“What a good idea,” Ramsay smiled. “This wine tastes delicious, and now I’m getting hungry. We’re staying. You’re leaving.” Ramsay shot a look at Mr. Kress. 

“What?” Kress reacted. 

“You’re leaving,” Ramsay repeated. 

“But—

“My finger is itching to pull the trigger, Mr. Kress,” Ramsay said dully. 

“Please go,” you begged Mr. Kress. “Do as he says.” The banker calmly stood up and left the restaurant, leaving you and Ramsay alone. 

“Finally,” Ramsay leaned back in the chair. “Order everything you wish, it’s yours.” Ramsay flashed Mr. Kress’ credit card.

“You took his card?” he shocked you. You were starting to regret giving Ramsay your phone number. Dinner felt tense and uncomfortable. How did he manage to know you were here? Now, he had Mr. Kress’ card. Mr. Kress. He was going to tell Baelish what happened here. He wasn’t going to be happy. Petyr was not going to be happy. This was bad.

Ramsay’s lambo pulled up to the gates to the Bird’s Cage. You looked out the window the entire time. Talking to him was something you couldn’t bring yourself to do. So many questions filled your head. You heard Ramsay turn the car off. 

“Are you going to tell me what’s going on?” Ramsay asked you. 

“I’m going to get into trouble for this,” you said out loud. You didn’t think about it, it just slipped out. 

“What happens when you get into trouble? He docks your pay?” Ramsay laughed. You shook your head. Your eyes didn’t blink. Your fingers fiddled with themselves. He eyed you up and down. “Does he beat you?” 

“I don’t know,” you said.

“What do you mean you don’t know?” He said. You noticed he didn’t unlock the car. 

“I have to go,” you told him, not looking at him. 

“If I let you go inside, will you be safe?” he asked. Your stomach flipped. Why did he care if you were safe or not? “Will he hurt you?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think so,” you kept looking down. Ramsay grabbed your chin and faced you towards his face. 

“If he threatens you, tell me,” his blue eyes were as sincere as ever. “Tell me what he does. Tell me what he says. If he gives you any shit, tell him to come to me.” You nodded. You heard the car doors unlock. You left and walked up the stairs to the mansion. Ramsay’s car didn’t leave until you closed the door behind you. 

Business went on as usual. Girls walked around in pretty dresses and heels. New and old clients scattered the place. The lounge smelled of cigarette smoke and marijuana. Soft music played through the rooms, but that did not quell the anxiety inside of you. Ramsay already interrupted one session with Matthew Kress. You were going have to answer for this second one.

You knocked on Petyr’s door. He opened it as soon as he heard you. Your eyes met and Petyr greeted you with a long, frustrated sigh.

“(Y/N),” Petyr pinched the bridge of his nose. “Sit down, we need to talk.” You looked down in shame. You took a seat and your finger fiddled with each other.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” you tried to keep calm. You never liked getting into trouble. You didn’t handle it well. 

“As you can imagine, Kress called,” Petyr leaned against his desk. You felt his eyes on you. “The young assassin has made another visit?”

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t know. I-I didn’t think he—

“Calm down, (Y/N). I’m not blaming you,” Petyr placed a hand on your shoulder. “Tell me what happened.” You took a deep breath.

“Mr. Kress said it was our anniversary dinner. He ordered the best wine. Ramsay had been texting me all day, but I ignored all of them. I didn’t want to be disrespectful. Then, I turned off my phone in front of Mr. Kress. That’s when he came in. He drank his wine, and he put a gun to his junk. Ramsay wasn’t happy that I didn’t text back. I pleaded with him. I told him that I would leave with him. Ramsay made Mr. Kress leave instead. He also took his credit card. I didn’t think he would be there. I’m sorry.”

Petyr listened to you. His weight shifted against the desk. His fingers tapped against his mouth. 

“Interesting,” he said. “Very interesting.”

“What’s interesting?”

“Kress told me a different story,” Petyr said as sat in his desk chair. “He switched out details. He told me that you kept looking at your phone instead of ignoring it. He also told me that you supported Ramsay holding the gun against him. However, he never mentioned anything about an anniversary dinner.”

There were certain rules and regulations Petyr put in place for the girls and the clients. Whenever a client wanted to see one girl for longer than three months, he had them sign a contract. This contract ensured payment, respect, and privacy. It also prevented other things.

“Anniversaries are not allowed. Has he taken you out on other anniversary dinners such as this?” You shook your head. Petyr nodded his head. “(Y/N), you are not in trouble. Stop looking like that. You think you are the first girl I’ve had that’s been stalked? Followed? I’ve seen all kinds of things from my girls.” You felt a weight lift from your shoulders. 

“Thank you,” you exhaled.

“However, I cannot ignore what happened with Ramsay. This is the third time this has happened.” You narrowed your eyes at Petyr.

“Third?” You only remembered when he barged in with you and Mr. Kress in your room and just now at the restaurant.

“Ramsay injured one of our guards trying to get to you,” he said flatly. “It was two nights ago. I didn’t concern you with it. It was not your problem, but now I see it is. He has your number? You gave it to him? Why?”

“I thought it would settle him,” you said. It was the truth. You only wanted to diffuse the situation. Every time Ramsay had come around, he created a mess of things. Petyr clicked his tongue.

“I have an idea,” Petyr turned his computer screen towards you. You saw emails between him and Cersei Lannister. “I have been struggling to get information I want about the Red Kings. Ros has told me things here and there, but that’s not what I need. I need a trusted source.”

“You want me to be that source?”

“I want you to be Ramsay’s. I want you to gain his trust. I want you to give me any and all information about them. About their hit waitlist, about their whereabouts, if they’re planning something. Anything. Ramsay already has an attachment to you. Let it develop. Let it grow. Don’t be afraid of it.”

“What about my other clients? Mr. Kress will not be happy with me seeing Ramsay,” you brought up a good point, but Petyr already had an answer for that. 

“I will be speaking with Matthew Kress. He is breaching the contract. That is not your concern,” Petyr said. “I only want you to focus on Ramsay. Let him have you. Let him think that you are all his. He will give you everything I want.”


	5. Something Not Quite Right

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello boys and girls, a couple of things before you read.  
> The wedding was bee-yoo-tiff-full. Everyone had a good time. It was an open bar. You know I had a good time. ;) But, now back to reality. I'd like to apologize for not posting on both last Thursday and this past Monday. I'm really sorry. life got really out of hand, and i was in demand more than I thought. I'm going to try to not let that happen again.
> 
> Also say hello to some of my tumblr followers that are reading. Hi guys! I have a tumblr dedicated to all my fanfic now. ( https://crowkingwrites.tumblr.com/ ) Go give it a look. Give it a follow. Up to you ;) But, if you'd like to request anything or see anything that's where to do it. 
> 
> Song Inspiration: Don't Feel Quite Right by Palaye Royale ( https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GVGtWngq3Yk )

_“I want you to be Ramsay’s. I want you to gain his trust. After that, I want you to give me any and all information about them. About their hit waitlist, about their whereabouts, if they’re planning something. Anything. Ramsay already has an attachment to you. Let it develop. Let it grow. Don’t be afraid of it.”_

_“What about my other clients? Mr. Kress will not be happy with me seeing Ramsay,” you brought up a good point, but Petyr already had an answer for that._

_“I will be speaking with Matthew Kress. He is breaching the contract. That is not your concern,” Petyr said. “I only want you to focus on Ramsay. Let him have you. Let him think that you are all his. He will give you everything I want.”_

Immediately after your talk with Petyr, he made an appointment for Ramsay free of charge. Ramsay expressed his excitement to you.

Ramsay: [I’ve got an idea for tonight. I think you’ll like it.]

You: [Oh? What kind of idea?]

Ramsay: [A night you will not forget. Put on the fanciest dress you have for me.]

You slipped on an evening dress made of beading and lace. Your back and chest were on display for anyone’s open eyes. A slit was on one side of the dress, so your legs showed. You put on your lucky diamond earrings. Hopefully, nothing will happen tonight. Nothing awful, at least.

As you exited your room and went down the stairs, Petyr caught you.

“(Y/N), before you go, may we have some words?” you nodded your head and followed Petyr into the front lounge. He closed the doors behind him. The curtains were open so you could see the sun setting over the city. Reds and oranges colored the sky. “(Y/N), I want to stress to you how important this is.”

“I know.”

“No, you don’t,” Petyr said calmly. Even when pressure was high, Petyr was a cool cucumber. He handled stress extremely well. “Gain his trust. Spend all night with him if you have to.” You nodded your head and saw a car pull up to the front. Before you could leave the room, Petyr grabbed your hand and looked into your eyes.

“(Y/N), be careful. I’ve seen boys like him before. They’re poisonous. I’ve seen girls return bruised. I’ve seen girls never return at all. I don’t want that for you. Understood?” You nodded your head again and felt the nerves take over when you left the building. Your heart sped up. You were much better than this. You were the smooth one. You were the calm one. Once you had a man who confessed he was a virgin, he was muttering and nervous the entire time while you were gentle and forgiving. Even with regulars like Mr. Kress, you were collected. 

So why was Ramsay different?

The back door of the car opened and you sat inside. Ramsay looked impressive in a gray suit and tie. Everything fit him perfectly down to his watch. He must have just polished it. Or maybe his maid did. Did he have maids? You looked up at his face to see the same eyes that stared into you the night before. They scanned you from the tips of your eyelashes to the bottom of the dress.

“Good. Very good,” he said. “Better than what I expected actually.” Ramsay knocked the private window twice, and the driver went off. He handed you a glass of champagne. “Drink. You’ll need it.”

“Where are we going?” you asked, taking the glass.

“You and I will be going to the Glass Gala tonight,” he started. “There is a friend there that I need to take care of.” You froze.

“Do you mean…?”

“Yes, exactly,” Ramsay said, drinking the entire glass. “This ‘friend’ has been put on my list. He’s going to be at the gala by himself, but his friends will be there. Do you know why I’m telling you all of this?”

“No,” you were afraid of the answer. Ramsay smiled.

“You’re going to help me.” Help him? Your heart started to pound against your chest. You didn’t look at him, but instead you stared in front of you. Your eyes adsorbed the color of the private window. You couldn’t kill anybody. There was no way. You were not going to commit a serious crime. “You’re not going to kill him.”

“What?” you said snapping out of it.

“If that’s what you’re worried about, you’re not going to kill him. I can take care of that part on my own,” Ramsay poured himself another glass. Your car pulled up in a line of other cars. 

“I don’t understand,” you responded.

“I’ve planned this out very carefully. I need to get my ‘friend’ away from his friends for a long amount of time without suspicion. I need you to do what you do best. I need you to hold their attention until I come for you.”

“What about you?”  
“That doesn’t concern you,” He told you. The car pulled up to the front of the glass building. Banners of the event were hung from high. “I’ll guide to who and where you need to be, I’ll take care of the rest.”

“Why me? We met a more than a week ago. Why am I doing this?” Your hands were shaking. You were going to be an accomplice to a planned murder. A felony. But that would be kind. Petyr had been operating his business illegally for years. If you were caught, this would be your end. It could mean your life.

“I like you,” he said. “I like you very much, and I’m willing to try something new out with you.”

“You trust me?” 

“I said I liked you,” Ramsay said. “This is an experiment.” Ramsay led you to the side of the glass building away from main security and the rest of the guests.

“You’ve never done this before?” you raised your voice at him. Ramsay flashed something at the side security officer and he nodded. He let you both inside without checking your bags or any form of ID. Both of you stepped inside. Ramsay grabbed your arm and forced you to walk beside him.

“No, I suspect this will be fun.”

“Wha—

“Shhhh,” Ramsay whispered into your ear. Ice sculptures decorated the room along with banners of the event everywhere. There was a cold chill in the room. You guessed the air conditioning was on high because of the volume of people there. Ladies and gentlemen were dressed to the nines. 

Ramsay stopped in the middle of the gala and looked around. His eyes followed everyone in the room. He watched them move their arms, fiddle with their phones, and laugh with their friends. 

“There,” Ramsay nodded his head towards a group of three men. “That’s who I need you to distract. Make them forget about their friend. Make them remember you.” 

“And you?” you asked again. You wanted reassurance. You wanted something. Trust? Respect? You weren’t sure.

“Do as I say. Go to them. I’ll get you after I’m done,” before you could respond Ramsay had already left your side. You saw the three men talking amongst themselves. They weren’t old or even aging. They were young and somewhat attractive. You smiled to yourself. That was a welcome change to who you were used to. This could be fun.

Your heart slowed to a steady pace. Your breathing was even. You grabbed a drink from a server’s tray and felt yourself float over to the threesome. One of them was talking to the other two. He was a sandy blonde, his hair slicked back. The other two looked related. They had the same nose and mousy brown color of hair. One of them noticed you walking over. 

“And so when they arrive at the 9th hole—

“Hold on, Vic. We have company,” the one watching you announced. All three looked at you as you joined their circle.

“Good evening, gentleman,” you smirked.

“Good evening,” Vic said. “I was going to finish my Japanese golfer joke, but you seem much more interesting.”

“To what do we owe the pleasure?” the one watching you eyed you up and down. The third man never said a word. 

“I was invited to this lovely event by my friend,” you looked around you adding effect. “But it seems he did not show up. I believe I have been ditched. I don’t know anyone else here, but you three seem very friendly.” Victor stepped closer to you.

“How awful,” he commented. “I know if I was in your friend’s shoes, I would realize how big of a mistake I was making.” The second spoke next.

“I agree. Who would ditch some like you? I’m very sorry…

“(Y/N).”

“(Y/N), beautiful name,” the second said. “You’ve met Victor. I’m Brad, and this is my very quiet cousin, Stephen. Forgive him, he’s nervous around pretty girls.”

“There’s nothing to forgive. Sometimes I prefer a man of few words,” you said while winking at Stephen. You watched him blush and take another gulp of his drink.

“What other men do you prefer?” Victor asked boldly. 

“I prefer any man that pleases me,” you smirked. 

“You’re mysterious, aren’t you?,” Brad said, running a hand through his hair. “So this ‘friend’ of yours. Are you attached to him?”

“Not particularly, no,” that was the truth. Attachment to people romantically was lost on you. You had a boyfriend or two before you became an escort, but no one serious. Why start now? Brad smiled at you and offered you his hand.

“Maybe we could dance?” he asked. No, you had to keep them all together in one place. 

“Oh excuse you, you don’t get to ask her to dance,” Victor interjected. 

“I saw her first. I think I have asking-to-dance rights,” Brad said, joking. 

“Well, now hold on. This is a good subject of conversation. Doesn’t asking a girl to dance in front of your friend who is also interested in the same girl violate some bro code?” You insinuated. 

“She’s right,” Victor said, frowning. “Remember Ashley?”

“Oh don’t bring her up now,” Brad rolled his eyes and looked at you. “He’s not over the fact his ex-girlfriend liked me more than him.” Victor punched him in the arm. 

“She liked me plenty before you got your claws into her. If (Y/N) should dance with anyone here it’s me,” Victor said holding out his arm. You looked towards Stephen who was quiet this entire time.

“What about you, Stephen?” you asked him. You walked closer to him and ever so gently put your hand on his shoulder. You felt him melting to your touch. His breath hitched.

“I-I don’t know,” he shook. “I guess so I—

“Hey you,” you felt Ramsay’s hand at the small of your back. You turned to see him completely clean as he was before. Out of the corner of your eye, you watched Brad’s face turn into a scowl. Victor was a little upset, but he didn’t look surprised. Stephen closed in on himself.

“So, you must be the friend she spoke of?” Brad said, hiding how truly upset he was.

“Friend?” Ramsay turned back to you.

“Yes, Dominic. I thought you wouldn’t show up. Luckily for me, Brad, Victor, and Stephen kept me company.” You said without a beat.

“Ah, I see,” Ramsay caught on to your little act quickly. “Traffic was awful. I’m so sorry for being so late. Let me get you another drink. Perhaps your new friends would like to join us?” Ramsay grabbed onto you tighter while he stared down Brad. Brad glared at him back.

“No, thank you,” Victor said, breaking the tension. “Actually, we’re waiting for our friend. Perhaps he’s late too because of the traffic. It was lovely to meet you, (Y/N). Maybe we’ll see each other again?”

“Maybe,” you smiled. “I’m very popular.” You giggled as you left with Ramsay. His hand guided you throughout the crowd. You felt Brad’s eyes on you even though you couldn’t see him anymore. The two of you walked through the side entrance and there was a different car waiting for you. This one was a silver SUV. Ramsay put you in the backseat, and he knocked on the window again. The car started to move through the others. Ramsay started to chuckle.

“What’s so funny?” you asked.

“I clearly underestimated you,” his wicked smile made you shudder. “All of them drooling over you. They were just…” Ramsay stopped in the middle of his sentence and made a desperately funny face. You giggled. 

“How did you do? Is he?” you asked. You expected Ramsay to be angry or frown at your question. He still kept his smile. He sat back in his chair and sighed as if he was looking back at a good memory.

“Yes, yes he is,” Ramsay nodded. His eyes closed and he exhaled a deep sigh. “He was so easy. He never made it inside, the poor man.” Ramsay had another fit of laughter. Your eyebrows knitted together. He was so happy. He was too happy. He just killed a man, and he was laughing about it. Like he enjoyed it.

“Do you like it? What you do?” you said. Ramsay stopped his laughing and faced you.

“Yes,” he said. “Don’t you like what you do? All of those men?”

“That’s not the same thing.” 

“You’re right, it’s not. But fucking must bring you some joy? Surely, all of that sex must make you somewhat happy?” You shook your head at him.

“That’s not all that I do, Ramsay,” you defended yourself. “I do other things. I make men and sometimes women happy.”

“You sure do. You saw Brad? He was not happy when you left. What did you tell him? That I was your boyfriend?”

“No.” You felt your anger rising. 

“Whatever you told him made him upset when I showed up. Did you want to fuck him?” Ramsay’s wicked smile crept on his face. He was having fun at your expense. 

“No, but you asked me to distract them and that’s what I did. I did my job, asshole,” you burst out. You heard a click. Ramsay was holding a gun to your head, but he kept the barrel inches away from your head.

“Tsk, tsk. I said I liked you, (Y/N). Don’t ruin your good record,” Ramsay kept the gun there.

“I’m not apologizing for doing my job. I know who I am and what I do best. You asked me to do just that, and I did. I don’t care if any of those men die by your hands. I don’t want to fuck them, and by the way you’re treating me, I don’t want to fuck you either.” Ramsay scooted closer to you. The end of the gun touched your neck. You felt how cold and metal it was. However that man died, it wasn’t by gun. 

“You are mine tonight. I can do whatever I want to you.”

“No, you won’t,” your eyes met his and you kept him there. You didn’t know why you felt confident. You had a gun to your throat. The man holding the gun enjoyed murder. His whole family did, but the words came out anyways. You closed your eyes and waited for the bang. There was nothing. You opened your eyes to see Ramsay on the other side of the SUV. His gun back in its original place.

The SUV pulled back up to the Bird’s Cage. Both of you sat in the car in silence. You looked at Ramsay who was staring out his window. His chest rose and fell steadily. He was calm. Your hands turned into fists. He was fine. How could he be fine? Your breathing became uneven and your felt heat rise to your cheeks and face.

“I’m more than a fuck toy. I’m a human being,” you told him. You grabbed your purse and opened the door. Before you closed the door, you opened your mouth again. “You’re heartless, Bolton.” You stomped your way into your home. Petyr opened the door to greet you, but before he could get a word out, you shoved your purse into his arms. 

“(Y/N)? What happened?” Petyr chased after you. You turned the hallway towards the kitchen. Petyr closed the doors behind him and put your purse down on the counter.

“I am an accomplice to a murder. He made me a part of his plans to execute someone,” you said to Petyr. 

“Who? Who did he kill?” 

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know? You said he made you an accomplice,” Petyr put his hands on the counter. 

“He did. He took me to the Glass Gala near downtown. He snuck us in. He showed a shifty security guard something. He took me in and told me to distract three guys. I held their attention and Ramsay came and got me. And we left. And-and he put a gun to my head.”

“He did what?” Petyr rushed to your side. 

“He p-put the gun to my throat. He was so mean. So awful,” you felt the words pour out of your mouth to Petyr. He wrapped his arms around you. You finally felt tension release from your body. You were shaking.

“I’m sorry,” Petyr apologized. “I’m so sorry. Did you get any names? Do you remember any details?”

“The three guys. Their names were Victor, Brad, and Stephen. Victor had sandy blonde hair. He reminded me of a Lannister. Brad and Stephen, they were cousins.”

“Any last names? Who was the victim?”

“No. Ramsay didn’t tell me who it was. He told me he didn’t trust me,” you felt like sobbing. 

“Fuck,” Petyr let you go. His hands ran through his head. He couldn’t look at you. “Go to bed.”

“I’m sorry, Petyr,” you apologized more. “I can—

“No, go to bed,” Petyr shook his head and left the kitchen. You held in your sobs. You couldn’t cry, not now. Petyr asked you to do one thing: gain Ramsay’s trust. You fucked it up when you talked back to him. You shouldn’t have done that. What was wrong with you? You knew better than to talk back to your clients. Ramsay wasn’t a client. Was he? He didn’t pay for you. 

It was fine. You were fine. Everything was going to be fine. You hoped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you catch the Harry Potter reference??? Let me know if you did. i snuck it in there. Muahaha. But as always, let me know what you think! I love feedback. Good feedback, bad feedback. I feed on feedback.


	6. Head Spinning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this chapter is shorter than I intended it to be, but I promise you the next chapter is much longer and it makes up for it :) As always, I hope you enjoy it. Leave anything at the bottom!
> 
> Song Inspiration: Actually, I listened to a bunch of different songs during this chapter, so there isn't truly just one. But if I had to choose one. We Don't Have To Dance - Andy Black ( https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8fEoWA9Vz3A )

_“No, go to bed,” Petyr shook his head and left the kitchen. You held in your sobs. You couldn’t cry, not now. Petyr asked you to do one thing: gain Ramsay’s trust. You fucked it up when you talked back to him. You shouldn’t have done that. What was wrong with you? You knew better than to talk back to your clients. Ramsay wasn’t a client. Was he? He didn’t pay for you._

_It was fine. You were fine. Everything was going to be fine. You hoped._

Ros’ bed was just as soft as yours. Her hand rubbed your back in circles. You couldn’t go to bed by yourself, not after what happened at the gala, and especially after what happened with Petyr. Your teary eyes looked at your phone. No notifications. He didn’t text you all night. 

“This is ridiculous,” you heard Ros softly say. “What was he thinking? Sending (Y/N) on a date with him? Is he crazy?” 

“Probably,” Vanessa said. You felt her weight on the bed. She had been with Petyr longer than you had. She had been one of Petyr’s first favorites, and she was considered one of the most expensive women here. She had taught you and Ros many tricks and tips. “Believe me, I am furious about this.”

“So am I, but what can we do? If Petyr didn’t get what he wanted, I don’t think he’ll care much for her safety or well-being,” Ros was right. You knew she was. You kept staring at your phone. It bothered you. Since you gave him your number, Ramsay couldn’t stop texting you. Now, he didn’t say a word. There wasn’t a single text at all. Why did it bother you?

“Why does he care so much about the Red Kings anyways?” you finally said. “What is he planning? Is it something with Cersei?”

“I don’t know,” Ros shrugged. “Vanessa?”

“You know I can’t tell you that, but I can tell you that he’s been in contact with both Cersei and Roose.” Roose? Petyr spoke with Roose as well? That made no sense. Why did he have you try to gain Ramsay’s trust when he already had Roose’s? Your phone vibrated. Your eyes couldn’t look at the notification fast enough.

Boss Man: [Come to the office. Now.]

“I’m in trouble,” you sat up. Ros squeezed your shoulders.

“(Y/N), you’ll be fine,” Vanessa grabbed your hand. “I promise you. Petyr always spoke highly of you. Always. There is a reason why you are one of his favorites. You’ve never caused problems for him before. Other girls have done worse than you. Relax.” You nodded your head, but you still felt hot tears in your eyes. “I’ll go with you.” Before you could protest, Vanessa was leading you out of Ros’ room and towards Petyr’s office. Her face was stoic. 

She knocked on the door, still holding your hand. Petyr opened the door and stepped back.

“I asked for (Y/N), not you,” he said.

“I’m not going anywhere. Look at what you did to her,” Vanessa said. Petyr watched you tremble. He saw your red eyes and messy hair. He sighed.

“Come in,” Both of you walked into his office. You saw another girl with brown hair sitting down. You weren’t familiar with the regular birds, but you’ve seen her before. She had a thin frame and a small chest. She was young, but she was legal. She gave you a small smile as you sat next to her.

“Now, what’s this about?” Vanessa said, closing the door behind her. 

“I gave her one task,” Petyr fumed. “(Y/N) was supposed to gain Ramsay’s trust.”

“She was forced to be an accomplice to murder. She had a gun to her throat, and this is what you’re angry about?” Vanessa hissed. “You know for a fact that I have done worse, and here you are scaring her.” You turned to Petyr to see his reaction. You’ve never seen anyone snap at Petyr. Petyr kept his calm face.

“This is important,” Petyr kept his cool.

“So is she. She’s important too. You know that,” Vanessa’s eyes glared into Petyr’s. Her deep red hair and anger reminded you of the late Catelyn Stark. 

“Nonetheless, Charlotte here has been doing a wonderful job,” Petyr gestured towards the young girl. “She’s already been on two dates with Roose’s son, Domeric.” Of course. Ramsay had a brother. You almost forgotten about him. You flirted with him that night you met Ramsay. If Petyr couldn’t get one son, he would get the other. Vanessa shook her head.

“Why? If you had Domeric, why would you need Ramsay?” 

“Domeric was my back-up plan.”

“Bullshit,” Vanessa hissed again. “You knowingly put one of your best girls in danger. In serious danger. Do you not give a shit?” You could feel the heat and anger from her words. You had calmed down quite a bit since Vanessa was here to vouch for you. 

“I care deeply about all my girls, Vanessa. You know that,” Petyr snapped. “Either way, Charlotte here has earned her way into the ranks. She will be taking the bedroom next to yours, (Y/N). Please lead her there. I want to talk to Vanessa, alone.” You looked up to Vanessa.

“Go with her,” Vanessa never looked away from Petyr. Her voice was flat, but still angry. You led Charlotte to her new bedroom. It was empty except for some furniture like a bed, a basic chair, and a mirror.

“You can move all of your stuff in here,” you explained. “If you go to Vanessa or Lady Ella, they can take you shopping for new sheets and anything else you want to fill your room with. Congrats on becoming a favorite.” You turned to leave until you felt a hand on you.

“Wait, I’m sorry,” Charlotte said. Her voice was high-pitched. “I didn’t mean to. I mean, I didn’t think you would get in trouble. I’m so sorry.” You gave her a half-smile.

“It’s fine. It was my mistake. You should be proud of yourself. It takes a lot of hard work to get where you are.”

“Well, it’s all thanks to you,” she said. 

“To me?” you inquired.

“My other friends and I look up to you. I doubt if you noticed us. We watched and copied everything you do. You really are like magic. The way men look at you, how they act around you. It’s like you’re a witch or something.” Charlotte’s eyes shined. She was telling the truth.

“Thank you, I’m flattered.” Your red eyes became sore and heavy. “I hope you enjoy your new status. Don’t go bragging about it. Nobody likes that person. I’ll see you later.” You left your new neighbor behind. Your door was still closed; you couldn’t go back in there. Not yet. You didn’t want to be alone. Ros peeked her head out from her room further down the hallway. Her finger beckoned you to come to her.

“How did it go?”

“Not good, but it went well for Charlotte. She’s a new favorite.”

“I don’t care about Charlotte. I care about you.”

“Vanessa vouched for me. She was really angry with Petyr,” you said. Your stomach dropped. “Vanessa?” Her face was red with handprints. Her sleeve was torn. She nodded towards her room. Both of you followed Vanessa to her room. She was silent as a snake crawling a garden. Once you reached her room, she calmly closed the door. 

Her room was decorated differently from the rest of the favorites. Much like the bathrooms, her wall was made of windows that looked out onto New York City. All of her furniture white with neutral accents. Her bathroom was completely open to the rest of the room. Her bathtub was the size of a normal hot tub. Her bookshelves held no books, but travel souvenirs from around the world.

“Vanessa—

“Shhhh,” Vanessa held up her hand. “Don’t ask.” She went towards her vanity. She sat down quietly and began to work on her face. With make-up and talent, she began to cover the redness of her skin. You didn’t want her to take the fall for you, but there she was. 

“Petyr is planning something,” she said. “I don’t know what it is, but his relationship with Cersei is becoming strained. You were an accomplice to a Lannister murder last night, (Y/N). It was one of Cersei’s spies. She doesn’t think we had anything to do with it, but she wants to know who put the hit out on him. Apparently, he was a good spy. How did he die?”

“I don’t know. All Ramsay told me is that it was easy for him. He never made it inside the gala.” Even now the words still haunted you.

“He’s good,” Vanessa turned around with her new face. There was no hint of Petyr’s hand on it. She went into her walk-in closet and sifted through her clothes. “He’s dangerous and he enjoys his job. You need to stay away from him. If you know what’s good for you, stop all contact with him.”

“But Petyr—

“Petyr knows exactly what kind of person Ramsay is. That’s why he had a back-up plan. Domeric Bolton is easier to manipulate than his brother. Domeric is in charge of that hitlist. Ramsay is not. Either way, you need to stay out of this. Whatever Petyr is planning, it’s complicated.” Vanessa shook her head. 

“What if Ramsay still wants her?” Ros asked. “Then what?”

“We don’t know that for sure. I’ve been with men like Ramsay before. They’re fickle. They’re unpredictable. He may want to see you again. He may not. Hopefully, it’s the second. You’re too good for someone like him, (Y/N).” You didn’t know why, but it hurt hearing that. As if she closed the chapter that was these two weeks. Ros guided you back to your room to get ready for another session with Mr. Kress. 

Everything was the same. Mr. Kress laid back on your bed while you massaged him. He complained about his unknowing and unsatisfying wife and her three dogs. He drank too much of the wine too fast as always. His face was blushing from it. And you kissed him the same. The same movements. He shoved his tongue into your mouth and you had grown numb. 

No, everything was different. You couldn’t get him out of your mind. Ramsay’s wicked smile. His unpredictable plans. The rush he gave you when he would touch you. The way he grabbed you. How he stared down Brad when he wrapped his arm around you. The way Ramsay watched you. How he texted you night and day. Like he needed you.

Now there was nothing. It had been only a single day, and you missed him. You missed him. The words repeated themselves in your head. No, you couldn’t miss him. You were one of Petyr’s birds. An escort. Attachments and relationships were something you couldn’t have, but Ramsay wasn’t your boyfriend. He was barely a friend. He didn’t trust you.

Suddenly, you didn’t know what hurt more. The fact that you missed him or that he admitted that he didn’t trust you. You understood why. Ramsay wasn’t an idiot. His father and he knew that Petyr Baelish was a snake. Why would he trust you? You worked for a snake. That just means you’re just as bad right? No, you were a good person. You did everything Ramsay told you to do. That is, until you talked back to him. You were lucky enough to be alive.

Mr. Kress laid you down on the bed in the same way he always does. His weight shifted onto your body. It was uncomfortable and unpleasant. Your mind went back to Ramsay. What had you done to him? Nothing. He agonized you. He threatened you more than once. Yet, he was the one who was hurt. It made you angry. 

But then you remembered the Italian dinner. He wanted you to be safe. He made you promise to tell him. So, he must care to some capacity right? Maybe. Your head was spinning with the possibilities. That’s when you saw it. Your phone was silent, but you saw the glow of the screen light up.

Ramsay: [I’m sorry.]


	7. Sorry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's Thursday! And you guys, season seven is literally around the corner! I don't know about you, but I am super pumped. Sure, I miss my favorite psychotic bastard, but I'm excited. The next time I'll be posting Season Seven will be among us. AW YEAH.  
> This chapter is much more tame compared to others I have written/planned. 
> 
> Audio Inspiration: Little Wanderer – Death Cab for Cutie (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=io9ivuo4r6Q )   
>  Black Sun - Death Cab for Cutie (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nruUewOQZiQ)
> 
> Death Cab happens to be one of my favorite bands. I couldn't choose just one.

_But then you remembered the Italian dinner. He wanted you to be safe. He made you promise to tell him. So, he must care to some capacity right? Maybe. Your head was spinning with the possibilities. That’s when you saw it. Your phone was silent, but you saw the glow of the screen light up._

_Ramsay: [I’m sorry.]_

“This. Is. Great,” Petyr was ecstatic. “How did you do it? What did you say?”

“I didn’t do anything,” you said, curling yourself up in your bed. “He just texted me last night, and now you’re here telling me this.” 

“Well, I scheduled him for tonight. He’s coming here.” Petyr smiled and sat at the edge of your bed.

“Tonight? No, no, no. I’m with Mr. Kress tonight. You know that. He always gets Saturday evenings.”

“Not tonight, he won’t,” Petyr paused. “You leave that to me. Besides, he breached contract. This is a way of punishing him. You are my bird, not his girlfriend.”

“He won’t be happy.”

“His happiness means very little to me right now,” Petyr explained. “You get ready for tonight. I’ve asked Vanessa to let you use her bathtub. She’s expecting you.” 

You walked over to the end of the hallway and knocked on Vanessa’s door. When she opened the door, she pointed you over to a bath that was already drawn.

“Thank you?” you said, stripping your clothes away.

“What did he say? Was he excited?” Vanessa sat at her vanity and began her make-up process. The lights from her mirror were bright. She had rows of everything organized. Everything was in its place. 

“Yes, he was very excited,” you responded.

“He’s insane. I’m so mad with him,” she started to put primer on her face. “After what’s he’s done with you, Olyvar, and now Charlotte, I’m so done with him.”

“Olyvar? What happened with Olyvar?”

“Petyr’s getting information on Cersei. He sent Olyvar to sleep with one of her spies.”

“And what went wrong?”

“It was a woman. You know how Olyvar feels about women.” 

“He didn’t—

“He did,” Vanessa moved onto foundation. “He came to my room later that night and told me about it. He said she was uncomfortable and homophobic as they come.”

“She was what?”

“She told Olyvar that gay men were made of sin. And she also mentioned she was cheating on her husband,” Vanessa turned to you. “Well get in the tub, let’s go. I made it perfectly warm for you.” 

You put your feet into the large tub. The scent of vanilla and cookies went up your nose. The warmth took over your body and you slouched inside the tub.

“Why him? Why is Petyr so interested in Ramsay?”

“I couldn’t tell you,” Vanessa said. “I’ve lost faith in him.” You turned sharply and some of the water splashed onto the floor. 

“What?”

“Maybe I’ve spent too much time here. I don’t know,” she went on. “The Petyr I first met is not the Petyr I know now. You know what? Just ignore me. I don’t know what I’m saying.” Vanessa continued on with her make-up in silence. You turned back and wiggled your toes in the tub. 

It was obvious that Vanessa was upset with everything that was happening. But did it really matter? Petyr had been scheming and drowning in self-preservation since you met him. This was nothing new. 

You had been here since Petyr earned Cersei and the Lannister’s favor. You’ve been to Lannister parties. You’ve slept with Lannister boys. You never asked why Petyr did the things he did. He made it clear that it wasn’t your business. You were never affected by any of this until now. Sure, Petyr asked you and the favorites to do strange and illegal things, but you were never caught. It never hurt anyone.

Until the Red Wedding.

Since the Red Wedding, Petyr threw you and the favorites under the bus, but did it mean that you should lose faith in him? Yes? No? Maybe not. Petyr has been good to you and everyone else. You remembered how he hit Vanessa and you shook your head. 

This was only another scheme. It’ll end, and everything will be fine. Nobody will get hurt.

You looked at your phone. He hadn’t texted you all day. You tapped on the conversation, and you saw his words: “I’m sorry”. You tapped on “reply” and the cursor blinked waiting for you to type. What could you say? You put down the phone, and went into your closet. 

You slipped on a crop top with a matching skirt. Something simple. You let your hair down. No shoes. Both of you would be inside your room anyways. Your feet touched the dark gray carpeting. For a final touch, you left your make-up simple, and covered yourself with a floral cardigan. 

No food had come. No tables were set in your room. Sometimes clients only wanted one thing. They wanted to skip the romancing and the wait. Maybe Ramsay wanted the same. He seemed like the type of person to go straight for the bed. 

You sat on the bench in front of your bed. His session would begin soon. You watched the door for any sign of sound or movement. But nothing came. You looked at your phone to see the clock. 9:55pm. He had five minutes to go.

You chuckled to yourself. Ramsay was just a client. You shouldn’t feel this way. You stood up and looked out the window. Gentleman of different ages and races filed in. You saw two gentleman wearing turbans share a joke between them and walk through the door. An older woman dressed to the nines handed her keys to one of the parking valets. 

A black lambo pulled up to the front. You watched Ramsay get out of the driver’s seat and hand his keys over to a valet. _He’s here. He made it._ Before he let go of his keys, he whispered in the valet’s ear. The valet nodded and scrambled to the driver’s seat of the car. He must have threatened him. Ramsay disappeared inside the front door of the Bird’s Cage and you found yourself looking away from the window and towards the door.

He would be here any minute. 

You sat at the edge of your bed, fiddling with your fingers. Would he just fuck you and leave? No, he said he was sorry. That had to mean something. Did he expect you to be sorry? You had nothing to be sorry over. But you did talk back to him. You said some mean things. 

The door opened and he walked into your room. Ramsay wore a black hoodie with blue t-shirt underneath. His jeans were ripped on one knee and his sneakers were dirty. Scruff had grown a bit on his face. This was not the formal-designer-suit wearing gentleman you knew.

Ramsay closed the door gently behind him. He leaned back on it and you saw his eyes look you over. He watched you stand up and walk over to him. 

“Hi,” you said, breaking the silence.

“Hi,” Ramsay exhaled. “We need to talk.” You gestured to your bed. “No, not that kind of talking. I mean, actual talking. I need to explain some things.” Ramsay walked past you and sat at the edge of your bed. 

“Oh ok,” you said. “What do you wanna talk about?” Ramsay’s eyes went to the ceiling and he tapped his foot. 

“Could I maybe have something to drink or something?” He was uncomfortable. This was different.

“Yes, of course,” you opened your door and said a few words to one of the servants outside. “I got some beer coming. It’ll be here in a couple of minutes, is that ok?” Ramsay nodded his head.   
You stood by the door, not really noticing you didn’t move.

“That bad, huh? I screwed with you that bad?”

“What?”

“You’re not going to sit next to me?”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I just—

“It’s fine,” he waved his hand at you, and then ran it through his hair. His hand landed at the back of his neck. There was a knock on the door and you grabbed the bucket of beer from the servant outside. You placed it on the top of your dresser, and handed a bottle to Ramsay.

Ramsay opened the bottle and chugged the beer down. When he was finished, he kept the bottle between his hands, peeling off the label.

“I owe you an apology, I think,” he started. “I didn’t think the Lannister murder would affect you, but it did and it got you in trouble. And I’m sorry. Where did he hit you?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Where did Petyr hit you?” he asked again.

“Petyr never hit me. I don’t know what you’re talking about, Ramsay,” you explained. Ramsay stood up and walked over to you, closing the space between you both. 

“You don’t have to lie to me. Did you cover it up with make-up?”

“No. Petyr never hit me.” Ramsay narrowed his eyes and looked at your face. As if he was trying to see under your make-up. 

“I was informed that Petyr hit someone, one of his favorite birds, because of the Lannister murder.”

“You’re talking about Vanessa. And it wasn’t because of the Lannister murder. She was upset with Petyr for a different reason.”

“So he never hit you?”

“No, but I was scared he was going to. I was just really, really scared. I don’t know there’s a lot that ran through my mind. What happened? Why me?” 

Ramsay grabbed two bottles and opened them both. He handed one to you and he gulped the other. “It was an experiment. I told you the truth. I wanted to see if I could use a distraction to give me an advantage and it worked.”

“Can you tell me what happened then? I want to know. What went through your head?” 

“When I received the hit, I wanted to plan it out differently. I don’t like to do the same thing twice, and then I remembered the gala. Problem was, galas are crowded. Galas are filled with people’s friends, family. People who cared. He has no family in the area. The poor Lannister bumpkin. He had friends though, rich ones. But how could I make his friends forget about him? At least temporarily?”

“And you thought of me?” Ramsay nodded his head.

“I thought back to the party. I watched you flirt with my brother. He was so enraptured by you. He couldn’t take his eyes off of you. He was having trouble speaking. You were perfect. You could hold their attention until I was done. And you did. You did so well.” Ramsay looked down. He started to peel at the label of this bottle too.

“Thank you,” you said to fill the silence. “When you say you received the hit, does that mean it came from the list?” Ramsay shot you a look.

“Do I look like a fucking idiot to you?” his grip on the bottle tightened. “Why would I tell you that? Hm?”

“You still don’t trust me.”

“You’re right. My brother may like one of his fancy birds, but I know better. I’m not a blabbering fool like him.” He peeled off the label more. Ripping at it, instead of taking it off in one piece.

“But you trusted me enough to be an accomplice to murder.” You gulped down your beer. It was like he wasn’t even sorry anymore. He didn’t care. He still didn’t trust you.

“Yes, and you know why? Because if you told anyone, I would have killed you.” You felt your stomach hurt.

“Is that why you’re here? To kill me? Did someone put me on the Red King List?” you felt your anger rising. “Then stop wasting time and do it. Strike me from the list already.”

“That’s not—

“Am I on the list or not?”

“I don’t know,” Ramsay immediately answered. “I don’t know who’s on that list. I doubt if you are on that list.”

“What do you mean? Your father is the King of the Red Kings. Your brother controls the list.” He sighed and laid back on the bed, dropping the bottle on the floor. He ran his hand through his hair and down his face. He let out a yell which sent you back two steps. He shot back up and looked at you. You met his eyes. 

“How can I trust you? Tell me how I can trust you? How do I know this isn’t going back to Petyr?” You looked around the room for a moment. You looked at your things, your clothes, your books, your hats, and your purse that hung from a hook on your closet. 

“If I told you how I ended up here, would you trust me then?” the question hung in the air for a moment. Ramsay clicked his tongue and moved aside, so you could sit next to him. You took another bottle of beer and opened it yourself. As you took a sip, you could feel the cool, bitter taste wash down your throat.

“I had just turned 18, and my best friend wanted to skip town and go to LA. We didn’t really think about it. We kinda just did it. We didn’t get the glamourous movie star life immediately, and we needed to pay the bills. She worked as a stripper in a strip club, and I settled for being a server at a pizza restaurant. The pay was okay, but the owner’s daughter didn’t like me. She always came in and complained about me. One day, she caught her boyfriend staring, and that was it.

“I got fired for ‘being a distraction’. But my best friend covered me. She got me a job serving at the strip club she worked at. At first, I wasn’t so happy about it. I always thought strippers were moral-less beings with mental issues until my first night. I earned so many tips so fast. Men slapped my ass and winked at me, and I earned twice as many tips. The manager asked me if he could make me one of the dancers, and I said yes. 

“I understood why my best friend always paid the rent on time. I saw why she got nice things for herself. It all made sense. She had the entire room in a trance. She taught me everything she knew. And then there was Hugo.”

“Hugo? Was he your boyfriend or something?” He drank his beer. You shook your head and continued.

“Hugo was my best friend’s boyfriend. He saw her and he saw dollar signs. Sometimes she wouldn’t come back home. I assumed she was spending the night with him. When really, he was selling her on the streets. He always gave her half, but something rubbed me the wrong way. Hugo asked me several times if he could pimp me out, but I always said no. Then I was offered five hundred for one night. One of his friends wanted me bad. He wasn’t bad looking, and he gave me the money in cash.”

“So you did it? You slept with him?”

“Yeah. And at first, it was only Hugo’s close friends. Guys who sold drugs or guys in gangs. Nobody really all that rich or powerful. Sometimes I would hear gunshots outside the hotel rooms. Sometimes I would hear intense arguments outside. Then Hugo wanted to take us to Vegas to make real money. 

“Something was off from the moment we arrived there. Hugo kept whispering on the phone to someone. My best friend assured me that it was nothing. But he just kept acting so weird. He was in a rush and then he wasn’t. His phone seemed to be glued to his ear. Then we arrived at this hotel and casino. 

“Hugo takes us to this private room in the casino. There was a bunch of old men smoking cigars. They spoke a different language. Hugo spoke to them back in the same language. I was confused. The men looked so angry and unhappy with him, but Hugo just kept going. He just kept talking. Then, one of them pulled out a gun and shot at Hugo, and I booked it from there. 

“I just kept running and running. I didn’t even notice that my best friend wasn’t even behind me. I turned around and I still didn’t see her. I felt my heart racing. Then, Petyr grabbed my hand and escorted me back to his room safely. He explained to me that he saw me in that room. I asked if he saw my best friend anywhere and he shook his head. 

“I remember hysterically crying. I couldn’t believe what happened in front of me. My best friend was gone. Hugo was gone. I felt so scared. Petyr consoled me and asked about me. I told him everything, and he offered me a place in the Bird Cage. He liked me a lot. He was offering me a home, a new life away from LA, and security. I couldn’t turn him down.”

“What about the men? Did they send anyone after you?” he asked.

“I don’t know. Petyr promised me that I would never be scared like that again. If they did, I had no clue about it. I have a good life here.” Ramsay had peeled off the entire label and crumbled it in his hands. 

“I believe you,” he said. 

“Do you trust me?”

“Are you going to tell Petyr anything I tell you?”

“No.”

“Did he order you tell him everything I say?”

“How did you—

“My father has spies too. Cersei has spies here as well. You’d be very stupid if you haven’t seen it,” he said. “Why do you want to know so badly?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted. “It was just a lot. It was so much so fast. Why me? Why not any other girl? Other girls can do what I can do.” Ramsay shook his head.

“No, no they can’t,” he gave you a half-smile. “I admit I threw you into it, but you’re not seeing what I’m seeing. You were perfect, (Y/N). You did exactly what I told you to do and you did it efficiently. You shouldn’t be so depressive about it.”

“Someone died because of me.”

“People die every day,” Ramsay threw his arms in the air. “I just make it more fun.”

“Can you tell me why?” Ramsay grabbed his smartphone and showed it to you. It was an encrypted text message with letters and numbers in and out of order. 

“See this?” you nodded. “This is my list. Yes, my brother controls the list, but I have my own list.”

“You have your own list? ”

“When you want someone dead, you contact my brother Domeric. Domeric gives the hit to a compatible Red King and it’s done. However, when you want someone to suffer, for their soul to break in a thousand pieces, or to even beg for death, that’s when you contact me. I don’t murder someone in clean matters. I hurt them. I break them. I bring them to the edge of hell and they beg me to kick them down. Do you understand?”

“Do you like it?” You didn’t know why you asked it, but the words came out. Ramsay’s wicked smile came back. This was him. This was the Ramsay you knew.

“Yes, yes I do, and I’m very good at it.”

“What did you do to the Lannister spy?” Ramsay leaned back on the bed, never taking his eyes off of you. 

“I poisoned him. It was quick and it hurt him. I was under a time crunch, so I had to make it fast. I’m not proud of it. I could’ve done better,” he smiled at you. “But you were still perfect.”

“I just flirted with a bunch of guys.” Ramsay rolled his eyes. His hand touched yours. A cold shiver ran up your back. 

“You didn’t ‘flirt with a bunch of guys’. You bewitched them. They wanted you. Oh, they wanted you very, very badly,” his fingers caressed the top of your hand. 

“And what about now? Do you want me?” The question rolled off your tongue. You looked into his blue eyes, they dilated. His smile stuck.

“You are good. You are very good at what you do. Do you know that?” he chuckled. Ramsay stood up and walked towards the door. “I should go. I have to meet with my boys.”

“Going to the bar to have fun?” your cheeky smile mirrored his.

“No, I’m looking into something. Maybe I’ll tell you about it tomorrow,” he winked at you. Ramsay winked at you. Was he flirting with you? You felt color rush up to your cheeks. Ramsay chuckled and he started to turn the door knob.

“Wait! Can I ask you one more thing?”

“What?” Ramsay stopped. 

“Are we okay now? Are we friends again?” You stood up and slowly walked over to him. He let go of the door knob, and his smile disappeared.

“That all depends. Do you forgive me?” Ramsay waited for your answer. His eyes still blue and dilated. You closed in the space between you two this time. 

“I think so. As long as you tell me that I’m going to be a part of your murder plans,” you joked. His hand cupped your cheek, and then his lips met yours. Your eyes fluttered shut. Your stomach turned into knots. This was happening. His lips moved against yours for a moment, and then he stopped.

“Good night, (Y/N),” Ramsay smiled as he left your bedroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did start posting this fic to my tumblr. I recently had a Ramsay request too. I'll be posting that request on here and Tumblr on Friday. (https://crowkingwrites.tumblr.com/)


	8. Wanting the Same Thing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GAME OF THRONES IS BAAAAACK!!! Wow guys. Just WOW. Wasn't that a great first episode??? 
> 
> Anyways, there's some new characters in this chapter :) Hopefully, you'll recognize them. My plans for this story are going exactly to plan. For those who have told me this story goes along with the books, thank you, but this is where I may deviate from the books. Well, at least this is beginning of me deviating from the books. 
> 
> Music: Green Light - Lorde (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dMK_npDG12Q )

“That all depends. Do you forgive me?” Ramsay waited for your answer. His eyes still blue and dilated. You closed in the space between you two this time. 

“I think so. As long as you tell me that I’m going to be a part of your murder plans,” you joked. His hand cupped your cheek, and then his lips met yours. Your eyes fluttered shut. Your stomach turned into knots. This was happening. His lips moved against yours for a moment, and then he stopped.

“Good night, (Y/N),” Ramsay smiled as he left your bedroom.

Last night. Your stomach in knots. His lips against yours. How quiet everything became. How loud your heat was. Why did he have this effect on you?

“Y/N?” Petyr called out to you. 

“Sorry, I’m here,” you said pushing back your hair. “Last night was productive.”

“Tell me about it,” Petyr leaned against his desk. He donned a collared shirt and dress pants which was casual for him. He scratched his almost clean shaven face. Daylight broke through the windows. 

“He told me that he has no control or knowledge on the list,” you explained. You leaned back in the chair. Your pajama shorts were comfortable. “Domeric Bolton has exclusive control over the list. Ramsay has his own list.”

“Really? Why?”

“Ramsay explained it like this: whenever you want someone dead, you go to Domeric. Whenever you want someone to suffer, to be tortured, and beg for death, you go to Ramsay.” You watched Petyr twitch slightly.

“So, Ramsay his own list. That included that Lannister spy from the other night. Someone wanted him to be tortured to death. Did he give you any idea who?” You shook your head at him.

“No, he didn’t. He did tell me how he killed him. He poisoned him. It was a quick, painful poison. He wasn’t proud of it, but he was under a time crunch. He needed it done quickly.”

“Poison? A quick acting one. Hm, okay,” Petyr reacted. “What else happened?”

“He told me he didn’t trust me first because I work for you. Both of them do not trust you even in the slightest,” you said. Petyr chuckled.  
“Roose Bolton is an intelligent man. He is right to not trust me. Ramsay told you a lot considering he said he didn’t trust you.”

“I gained his trust,” you said. “I told him how you found me.”

“In Las Vegas?”

“Yes,” you looked down. The memory was still painful. 

“That young man you were with didn’t know who he was dealing with,” Petyr frowned. “You could’ve been hurt. I’m surprised that nothing happened to you before.”

“I told you. Gang members protect their friends. I happened to be friends with a lot of them,” you sighed. “It’s all over now though.”

“It still affects you,” Petyr kneeled down to you, trying to get a good look at you. “You know I care about my birds. You are one of my favorites.”

“What’s your point?” you didn’t want to be rude, but it was already out there.

“I have been putting you through a lot and for good reason. I have an opportunity this afternoon. I don’t want to spoil anything just yet, but it could mean a lot for all of us. You have worked very hard, and I haven’t been too kind about it. I have been ignoring your needs. My point is, do you want to go to therapy again?”

The thought of therapy felt bizarre. You remembered the one on one talking with the doctor. She didn’t judge you or question your decisions. Her advice and exercises helped, but it was the drugs. Like a lot of people, anti-depressants were touch and go with you. They helped you sleep at night and feel somewhat normal some days. Other days you felt numb again. 

“I don’t know,” you said.

“Are you depressed? Have I been putting too much on you?”

“No, I’m fine. I’m okay,” you said to him. “Who do I have today?”

“Mr. Kress,” Petyr didn’t even look at his schedule. “He wasn’t happy when I moved his regular appointment, but then I reminded him that you are not his girlfriend and that he pays me for you. Remind him of that fact if he does anything or that sort tonight.”

Mr. Kress was the same. He was always the same. He came. He complained about his wife. He drank too much of the wine, and he complained again. You pondered if any of his money made him truly happy. He made a lot of it, but it seemed he wasn’t happy with anything but you. Did he complain about you to other people? Did other people know of his affair with you?

You felt your phone vibrate.   
Ramsay: [Is he with you now?]

You: [Yes, he’s doing the same thing again.]

Ramsay: [The same thing?]

You: [He’s complaining on and on and on. I’m so over it. He should divorce his wife already. Date a playboy bunny. Or something.]

Ramsay: [How long has been your client?]

You: [A little over a year. Most clients of mine don’t last this long. They move on to different girls.]

Ramsay: [Any idea why he’s obsessed with you?]

You: [No, I wish he wasn’t.]

“Y/N?” Mr. Kress said, catching your attention. You quickly put your phone back in your lap.

“Yes?”

“Who are you texting?”

“What? I’m not texting anyone, Mr. Kress. It’s only you and me,” you smiled, showing your teeth. 

“What was the last thing I said?” He questioned.

“You were saying that your wife’s book club is becoming a nuisance. That her friends and their Oprah-approved books are putting ideas in her head,” you learned long ago how to listen to men and let your mind wander. Mr. Kress sat there with his mouth open. “Is there something wrong?”

“No, I just didn’t think you were-, sorry,” Mr. Kress apologized. He continued on.

Ramsay: [Does he fuck you?]

You: [That’s a rude question. But yes he does.]

Ramsay: [How is he?]

You: [Bad. He only focuses on his own pleasure. I don’t care though.]

Ramsay: [That’s sad. Sex should make people happy.]

You: [Sex is a paycheck to me. I don’t need to be happy.]   
You lifted your head and nodded at Mr. Kress’ new topic of conversation, his co-workers, he hated that some Hector Lannister got a promotion before him. You wanted to explain to him how things really worked with any Lannister, but it would be fruitless. Your phone vibrated again.

Ramsay: [I could make you happy.]

You felt your heart skip a beat. Your face went red and you quickly covered your face.

“Y/N?” Mr. Kress chuckled. “It’s not that awful. I will get a promotion. They need me there. No need to feel embarrassed for me.”

“I’m sorry,” you muttered. “I still find it awful that higher ranked Lannisters don’t recognize your obvious talent and intelligence.” Your phone vibrated again.

Ramsay: [Can you sneak out tonight? After you’re done with him?]

You: [Good timing  We’ll be done soon. We’re about to go the bed.]

Ramsay: [I’m leaving now. See you soon, babygirl.]

The bed rocked back and forth. You heard it creak under the combined weight of you and Mr. Kress. The rhythm was off. The room was quiet except for your breathing. But it didn’t matter. No matter how awkward it felt, it did not matter. 

He was on his way. He was coming to you. You could see him again. Talk to him. Kiss him again. No, you shouldn’t kiss him. He wasn’t a client. Yes, yes he was. He paid for you. Why it did matter? His lips felt so warm. In those moments, everything felt so right. It felt so good. 

He killed people for a living. He likes it. He knows how to kiss you. He called you babygirl.

He was complicated.

You watched Mr. Kress leave in his car. His obnoxiously Dodge Challenger drove out of the gates of the Bird Cage. You flew from the window and back to your closet. You slipped on a tiny red dress. A red dress so small that your mother wouldn’t let you out of the house in it. It made you feel dangerously attractive. 

Slipping out of your room was easy. The hallway was carpeted. No one would hear your footsteps. At one end of the hallway was Vanessa’s room. She’s never there during nights. Her clients like to take her places and buy her things. At the opposite end was another stairway. You took that stairway down to bar area. 

When there wasn’t any parties, Petyr used the bar area to let birds meet new clients and get acquainted. Next to the bar was the hallway to get to the back door. All you had to do is get through the bar without notice. 

You snuck behind the bar, ducking under so no one could see you. You semi-crawled through and you saw Killian the bartender give you a weird look. 

“Hiding from a client,” you explained. He nodded and went on his way. You continued on. You ducked again under the counter and escaped into the hallway. You cleared the bar area, but then you heard Petyr’s voice. You looked to your left. A closet. Perfect. You hid inside the closet and waited.

“And here, my lady is our kitchen area,” Petyr guided an unfamiliar woman through the hallway. She looked as old as Petyr. Her eyes had the beginnings of wrinkles on them. Her hair was red and in one single braid down her back. She wore a simple dress with a scarf around her neck. Her purse was attached to her side.

“This is a chef’s kitchen. You have a kitchen staff here?” she said, walking into the kitchen. You were about to go, but then you saw someone else follow them. A younger man. He had on a collared shirt with jeans. He paid no attention to anything, but the game console in his hands. You heard various sounds and beeps. He followed them into the kitchen as well.

You quietly walked out and shut the closet door behind you. You could still hear their voices in the kitchen.

“This is very nice. I’m impressed, Petyr,” she said, linking her arm with his. “I imagine you have magnificent feasts made here.”

“I do. They don’t say I throw amazing parties for nothing,” Petyr laughed. “So you like it?”

“I do! Well, I like this part of the house,” she went on. “I don’t like the rest.” Her face turned into a scowl. As if she saw a beetle on the ground, crawling towards her. 

“Lysa, you must understand. This is my business. These girls mean a lot to me,” Petyr said. Lysa? Why did that name sound so familiar?

“These girls are also immoral, unreligious, and spoiled,” you took offense to her words. You wanted to give her a piece of your mind, but you held yourself back.

“You don’t know them, Lysa. I promise you, some of these girls are the sweetest things you will ever meet, especially Vanessa. I think you’ll find her taste is very similar to yours,” Petyr explained. He always defended you to anyone who spoke ill of you. Petyr never let someone else call his birds sluts and get away with it. You watched Lysa touch Petyr again. Her hands were all over him.

“Alright, if you say so,” she gave him a peck on the cheek and you swore you saw Petyr twitch. You snuck past them and went through the back door. 

The summer winds kicked up and you felt the cold breeze go through your dress. You crossed your arms to bring yourself some kind of warmth. You walked along the property and turned the corner.

There, at the side of the building, was Ramsay’s black lamborghini. You walked towards it. He must have seen you because the next thing you knew he got out of his car and ran to you. His hands grabbed you at your sides. His lips crashed against yours again. He put so much force into the kiss that you both backed up to the side of the building. His hands gripped your hips. 

Your hands gripped the fabric of his shirt. You kissed him back with as much force as you could muster. He separated from you and chuckled.

“Hello Y/N,” he darkly chuckled. 

“Hello Ramsay,” you greeted. You felt the tension build up again, and you kissed him first. Your tongue begged for entrance into his mouth. He let you in and let you control the kiss—for a couple of seconds. He forced you back into the wall. His tongue went into your mouth without any warning. He explored in your mouth and in your hair. His hands gripped and pulled at your hair. It hurt, but it felt good. Everything felt so good. It was a hot rhythm. 

You separated from him this time. His face still close to yours. Your fingers played with his, but you didn’t hold his hands.

“How are you? Was the drive easy?” you said first, breaking the silence. Ramsay nodded.

“Yeah, everything was fine. I had a day off today,” he commented.

“Oh? And what does a hired assassin do on his day off?” you teased.

“I text the prettiest girl I know,” he smiled at you and you felt your face heat up. “I also did a lot of thinking today. About you. About this.”

“What about it?”

“I’m not like this. Not with anyone else. I mean, I’ve had girlfriends. I’ve had lovers, but no one like you,” Ramsay explained. His fingers continuing to play with yours. “After I left here last night, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I wanted to do it again so bad.”

“Me too,” you confessed. You watched Ramsay smile and then bite his lip. He shook his head and his face became serious.

“I know what you are. I know what you do, so be honest with me. I don’t like liars.”

“I know.” Ramsay took a breath.

“If I told you how I felt about you, do you think you would feel the same?” he asked. The words slowly sinked in. 

“Ramsay, you do realize—

“I know you’re not allowed to have a boyfriend,” he interrupted you. “I know you are not allowed to date anyone outside of your clients. But, there’s nothing in your job contract that says you can’t have feelings for anyone.”

“How do you know what my job contract is?” you asked, eyes brows raised.

“You don’t want to know,” he said. “It’s not important. What’s important is that I can’t ignore what’s been happening. I can’t stop thinking about you, Y/N. Are you doing this on purpose?” You felt your heart sink.

“You think I’m trying to trick you into having feelings for me?” Ramsay stood silently. 

“Seeing what you do I don’t know what’s real and what’s not. All I know is that I wanted to kiss you so badly all day today and I didn’t know if you wanted the same thing,” Ramsay put his hand against the wall and let it rest there, almost trapping you between the wall and him.

“Ramsay, I can’t be your girlfriend,” you said.

“I’m not asking that,” he responded. “I’m asking if you want the same things as I do. I’m asking Y/N if she wants me, not the pretty bird that flies in her cage day after day.” It was hard. You couldn’t admit it to him, but you missed him when he didn’t text you. You waited all day for him to kiss you like that again.

But, the fact remains. You were Petyr’s bird. You couldn’t belong to anyone. It wasn’t up to you, you had a contract to follow. 

“I don’t know,” you said.

“What does that mean?”

“I can’t be—

“That’s not what I asked. Do you want me?”

“Yes,” you finally said it aloud. “I want you. I wanted to kiss me like that all day long.” It felt good telling him the truth. Ramsay smiled and leaned forward. He kissed you gently this time. 

“Then it’s settled,” he said. “Consider me your new regular client then.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made a lot of brownies last night for the Game of Thrones party and geeeez I have too many brownies leftover lol. Anybody want some?


	9. Security

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is super late.  
> I didn't mean for it to be this late, and I'm sorry. If you follow me on my tumblr, you already know why. I've had a bad week. Let's leave it at it. This was rushed and unedited, so there will most likely be mistakes in grammar/technical/and other things. Again, i would like to apologize. I know this is not my best chapter. :(
> 
> I hope you enjoy this either way.
> 
> Song: Seven Lions with Myon and Shane 54 - Strangers (Feat. Tove Lo) (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xfFBP4JQ1jQ)

_“That’s not what I asked. Do you want me?”_

_“Yes,” you finally said it aloud. “I want you. I wanted you to kiss me like that all day long.” It felt good telling him the truth. Ramsay smiled and leaned forward. He kissed you gently this time._

_“Then it’s settled,” he said. “Consider me your new regular client then.”_

Ramsay was an unusual client to say the least. He asked your consent before he tried anything new with you. He had done everything under the sun with you except for sex which upset you. He seemed like the type that would rush to fuck or leave early in a one night stand, but most nights he would kiss you goodbye and leave you for the night.

None of this mattered to Petyr. Ramsay was good for business. He had brought over other Red Kings. And they made appointments with various girls. Domeric still regularly saw Charlotte. You could often hear her giggle over the phone with Domeric. One particular Red King had an eye for Olyvar for quite some time. Business was doing extremely well.

You barely saw nowadays. He was always doing something with Lysa. She took up a majority of his time. You assumed they went on dates and appeared at events together, but it still bothered you. You heard that name somewhere. She looked oddly familiar. 

It was a rainy Saturday afternoon. The ping of the raindrops against the window calmed you. You heard a knock on the door, and you turned to see Ramsay shut the door.

“I got your text,” he greeted you. “I thought you had Mr. Kress on Saturday nights.”

“I do, but not tonight.” Ramsay looked to the window and back to you.

“I don’t understand. Did he cancel?” You shook your head.

“I see him twice a week, and every Saturday. Unless I’m feeling ‘unwell’.”

“Feeling unwell? Is that a cop out?” Ramsay laughed. You shook your head. “Are you feeling okay?”

“I’m on my period,” you told him. 

“Oh. That’s it? That what he considers unwell? What an idiot,” Ramsay scoffed.

“I know,” you leaned against him. Your fingers found his, and you played with each other’s hands, but never completely holding them. “Do you mind spending time with me? Usually I spend these days with Ros, but she is completely booked tonight.”

“I guess that’s my fault isn’t it?” He chuckled. “My brother and I are regulars here, it would make sense for others to follow suit.” 

“Well, if you’re gonna stay here, might as well order some food hm?” you questioned, whipping out your cell phone. “Is pizza okay?” Ramsay scoffed.

“Have you not had a calzone before?” He sat up and stretched his arms in the air. You could see a part of his stomach and the band of his underwear. You looked back to your cell, hoping he didn’t see you staring.

“I don’t know what that is,” you responded. A pillow hit you. You snapped your head to look at Ramsay. He sat with his mouth open.

“You don’t know what a calzone is? You’re fucking joking,” he yelled at you. You shook your head. Ramsay touched his screen and you saw him unlock his phone so fast, you couldn’t tell what the pattern was. “Fred? Yes, it’s me. I want the usual, but I also want to add another calzone, make it a sausage with extra cheese. And don’t deliver it to the usual spot—

Vanessa knocked your door and came in.

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t realize, I thought—

“No, it’s fine. Ros is booked tonight. Ramsay’s gonna stay with me. He’s ordering calzones?” you explained. “What’s up?” Vanessa made a face at you.

“There’s something you should know.”

“What is it?” you asked.

“Petyr…Petyr is engaged now,” the words dropped to the floor, and so did your mouth.

“I’m sorry?”

“Petyr took Lysa out for a beautiful lunch, and he proposed to her. He had paparazzo set up and everything to capture it all. I’m telling everyone because that’s how I found out. A stupid fucking picture,” Vanessa looked angrily at her phone and then she showed you. A picture of Lysa embracing Petyr shocked you. 

“Lysa?” Ramsay said. “As in Lysa Arryn?”

“Yeah, do you know her?” you asked.

“Of course I know her. Lysa Arryn, the widow of Jon Arryn and sister of Catelyn Stark.” It hit you. The red hair. The one single braid down the hair. Lysa Arryn, Catelyn Stark’s sister. 

“Oh my god, I’m an idiot.”

“What’s wrong?” Vanessa said, still standing between the hallway and your room.

“I saw them together. They were here. She was here with her son. They were touring the place. I knew I saw her somewhere.”

“She was here?” Vanessa asked. Ramsay’s eyes flicked to you. They were both listening.

“Yeah. I was sneaking out to see Ramsay. Petyr brought them to the kitchen. She shared her not-so-polite opinion on us, but then Petyr set her straight. She was draping herself all over him.” Vanessa seemed indifferent, but Ramsay was interested. 

Petyr Baelish was engaged. It didn’t bother you, but you never thought you would say that out loud. One would think Petyr would have his own girls all over him, but Petyr never laid a finger on anyone here. You and other favorites always thought Vanessa and him had something. Some fling or something else, but Vanessa would always wave it off before rumors got too crazy.

Weeks passed. You would see a random client or Mr. Kress, and you would do their business with them. After they left, Ramsay would come into your bedroom and you felt at peace. You didn’t have to pretend to be anyone. You were you. He liked it that way.

The next time Kress visited you, he took you to another Italian restaurant and presented you with a pair of beautiful diamond earrings. He never gotten you anything before. 

“This is so extravagant. I can’t take this,” you gave the box back to him.

“No, no. You deserve this, Y/N. I want you to have it,” Kress said, smiling. You took the box again. “I want to apologize for my behavior these past few weeks. I have been mistrustful and rude to you.”

“Oh.”

“I just want your love, Y/N. You understand,” Kress said. “As I give you my love, you shall return that same love to me.”

“Mr. Kress—

“Call me Matthew,” he said to you as he reached out his hand to yours.

“Matthew,” you both hands in your hand, out of reach. “You do understand what I am. I am your escort, not your girlfriend. I cannot love you.” You knew you had to tell Petyr about this. When you reached your room, you found Ramsay on your bed, typing away on a laptop.

“Ramsay?” 

“Hello,” he greeted, not looking away from the laptop.  
“What are you doing here?” you set your purse down and walked over to him. Your heels clicked the floor.

“I wanted to see you, so Petyr scheduled me in for a last minute appointment, but I see that your date with Kress ran late. So, I waited and waited and waited,” Ramsay narrowed his eyes at you. “I don’t like waiting. What are those?” He pointed to the diamond earrings.

“Earrings?” you pointed at them.

“Yes, those. Where did those come from?” he said. 

“What does that supposed to mean?” you nervously smiled. “They’re just earrings.”

“No, that pair isn’t in your box. You don’t own a pair of earrings like that. Where did they come from?” You stood there in disbelief.

“You can’t possibly know every single pair of earrings I wear. That’s ridiculous.”

“I do and it’s not,” Ramsay explained. “You haven’t answered my question. He got off the bed and closed in the space between you.

“Mr. Kress bought these for me,” you hated that he did this to you. Your hands shook. Your heart quickened. 

“Why?”

“He said he wanted me to return his love,” you immediately answered. Ramsay’s fists balled up and his nostrils flared. 

“And what did you say?” he asked.

“I told him I couldn’t,” you backed up from him. You took off the earrings and placed them on your vanity. “You shouldn’t make a big deal. Clients give me gifts all the time. This dress was the first gift I got from a client.”

“What else?” Ramsay’s eyes never left yours. He wanted the truth. All of the truth. Now.

“Well, besides this dress and the earrings. Harry bought me these two dress right here. Xander generously bought me this vanity. He was very kind to me,” you smiled remembering him. “Patrick and Gregory bought me several pairs of these earrings. I could go on.”

You watched Ramsay’s fists release. His eyes went around the room. He studied everything around him as if he was trying to remember it all.

“You’ve slept with that many men? How much of this stuff is actually yours?” And there he was. The cruel one. The mean one. The Ramsay that got under your skin.  
“You’re not understanding my point,” you said. “This isn’t a big deal, Ramsay.”

“It is,” his eyebrow raised. “Mr. Kress still thinks you’re his. That he can just give you things and you’ll still fuck him.”

“I have to, it’s my job.”

“No, you don’t,” Ramsay went off. “He’s been nothing but a miserable, fat shit. He gives you earrings and suddenly everything’s fine?”

“I don’t love him, Ramsay. I don’t even like him.”

“But you took the earrings anyways?” You opened and shut your mouth. He was right. He looked down. His hand ran through his hair and silence fell between you. His shoes were off, and they revealed a pair of dirty white socks. His jeans had holes at his knees. You swore you saw a tattoo of the words “flayed man” on his right knee. Your eyes went to his hoodie. It was a pullover black hoodie. The Red King sigil of an X with a man hanging on it was printed on.

“Your hoodie,” you said. “I want it.”

“What? Why?” he asked. 

“You’re my client. I would like a gift for my services,” you smiled. You hoped he would catch on. Ramsay’s eyes narrowed at you for a moment, but then they widened.

“Oh.”

“I would really like that hoodie,” you playfully flirted with him. You walked over to him and started to pull it over his head. He raised his arms to help you. Once it was off of him, you pulled it over your head and onto your body. The fabric was soft and thick. It felt warm, and your nose caught the scent of him all over the garment. 

“You like it?” You nodded your head. “It suits you.”

“Thank you,” you told him. Ramsay wrapped his arms around your tummy. Both of you looked into the mirror. “It really does suit you. Have you thought about what happens when you leave here?”

“What do you mean leave here?”

“You can’t be a pretty little bird forever. You could be a Red King you know,” he commented.  
“You can’t be serious,” you turned to look at him. “Me? A Red King?”

“There’s a lot of girls who Kings,” Ramsay smiled. “Some of them happen to be very pretty.” His tongue went into his cheek. You frowned. 

“I don’t know. I don’t think it’s for me,” you denied him. He grabbed you again, and put you in front of the mirror.

“You truly have no idea the effect you have on other men. You have so much potential. Look at you,” Ramsay said. You took a good look at yourself. Your hair was down, your makeup was still on from the date with Kress. Then you looked at the hoodie. You liked how warm it was, but you weren’t sure the sigil. You weren’t even sure about the future.

Petyr was engaged. Would that mean the end of this business forever? Would he uproot and leave you all to fend for yourselves? No, he wouldn’t do that. He could leave Vanessa in charge. But, you would get older. What would happen then? You shook your head.

“I don’t know. I don’t want to think about the future now.”

“I’ve upset you,” Ramsay bit his lip, annoyed. “You know what a good idea is for moments like this? A good walk. Let’s go.” Ramsay put his shoes on.

“What? No, this is New York City. We could get hurt,” you said. Ramsay laughed at you.

“What do you think is going to happen out there? Some mugger will point a gun at us? I could kill him before he pulls the trigger. A gang jumps us? They wouldn’t dare. They know who I am. You’re safe. You’ll be with me.” You felt somewhat comforted by his words, but the thought of Ramsay killing anyone in front of you still made you sick to your stomach.

Ramsay grabbed his book bag with one hand and your hand with the other. Ramsay led you down the stairs and almost out the door until a certain client called your name.

“Y/N! What are you doing with him?” Mr. Kress angrily said. You saw Ramsay roll his eyes. 

“Mr. Kress, what are you doing here?” you smiled. You let go of Ramsay’s arm. 

“He’s spying on us,” Ramsay said out loud. “Hoping he could get a peek of you so, he can yank it off.”

“I don’t want none of your cheek, Bolton Boy,” Mr. Kress pointed his finger at him. “What are you doing with him, Y/N?”

“Ramsay Bolton is a regular client, Matthew,” Petyr walked into the conversation, and you felt safe. “Y/N has other clients. You understand.” He smiled.

“He can pay for her?” Mr. Kress spat at Ramsay. Ramsay smiled.

“I can. I can also do other things,” he winked.

“Don’t you talk about her like that,” Mr. Kress said.

“I can talk about her however I see fit. Unless you want to tell me off again? You know what happened last time you displeased me?”

“I had to change all my passwords because of you.” Ramsay started to laugh.

“That’s right! You were stupid enough to keep all your passwords in your wallet. You’re truly an idiotic pig.” It felt good Ramsay saying that to him. You wanted to cheer him on and laugh, but you covered your mouth. Mr. Kress’s face turned red.

“I want him gone,” he said to Petyr. “I want him banned from this establishment. I want him to stop seeing Y/N. I want him gone. Do it. Ban him.” Ramsay’s smile grew bigger.

“I want him gone,” Ramsay said. “I want you to ban him and bar him from seeing Y/N ever again.” Mr. Kress laughed.

“You don’t have the means.”

“Oh, but I do,” Ramsay dropped the book bag in front of Petyr. “Go on, look inside.”

Petyr opened the zipper and gave an impressed nod.

“He has the means,” Petyr said. 

“What?”

“He definitely has the means,” Petyr said again, looking at Mr. Kress. Mr. Kress opened his mouth in disbelief. You walked over to Petyr and saw all of the cash stuffed inside the bag.

“I meant to ask when you were sleeping, pretty bird,” Ramsay told you. “I was going to go to Petyr and have him schedule you to me for a trip.”

“He can’t do that! I have regular appointments!” Mr. Kress shouted. 

“He’s right,” Petyr said. “I’m afraid, I can’t give Y/N to you on such short notice.” Ramsay smiled again. He walked over to Petyr.

“You can and you will.”

“What do you have to offer me?” Petyr said, still trying to show neutrality.

“If you ban him and let me take her on my trip, I’ll give you want more than anything: Information,” Ramsay dropped the ball. 

“Security!” Petyr called aloud. Mr. Kress laughed again.

“I knew it! Finally! He’s gone!” Mr. Kress laughed as loud as he could. His belly jiggling.

“It’s not for him, it’s for you,” Petyr said. Two large men came at each side of Mr. Kress and grabbed his arms. They started to drag him out the mansion.

“No! You can’t do this! I paid for her! She’s mine!” He protested. Your mouth stood open at watching the sight. Ramsay got rid of Mr. Kress forever for you. Ramsay put his finger under your chin and closed your mouth for you.

“Follow me to my office. There’s details we need to take care of,” Petyr called out to Ramsay. Ramsay whispered in your ear.

“Go pack your bags, darling. You’re coming to Chicago with me.”


	10. Make Him Suffer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!  
> Really nothing to say for right now, so please enjoy!!
> 
> Music Inspiration: Worlds Apart - Seven Lions with Kerli (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ULqdjtDI-bs)  
>  Seven Devils - Florence and the Machine (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8QdpCJIyyi4)

_“No! You can’t do this! I paid for her! She’s mine!” He protested. Your mouth stood open at watching the sight. Ramsay got rid of Mr. Kress forever for you. Ramsay put his finger under your chin and closed your mouth for you._

_“Follow me to my office. There’s details we need to take care of,” Petyr called out to Ramsay. Ramsay whispered in your ear._

_“Go pack your bags, darling. You’re coming to Chicago with me.”_

It was the middle of the night, and usually at this time you would find yourself underneath a man, but you were here at the airport with one of the most dangerous men in New York City. The airport was almost dead. No one was here except for a few people here and there. 

Ramsay had taken care of all the details apparently. Your suitcase was taken away by the receptionist at the counter, and you were left with your carry-on. 

“You said this was a business trip,” you leaned towards him. He hummed at your response. “What kind of business trip?” Ramsay chuckled.

“You know that answer already,” his smile grew into a menacing one. Your stomach turned upside down.

“I’m helping you again, aren’t I?”

“Yes, yes you are, my pretty bird,” Ramsay kissed your cheek. Even though the kiss was quick, you could still feel the heat on the side of your face. 

Both of you walked towards the terminal until you had a sudden realization: the last time you went on a plane for a sudden trip was to Las Vegas. Where you lost your best friend. Now, you were going to Chicago and you’ve heard things about Chicago. You’ve seen the news. You’ve heard stories. Chicago was much more dangerous than Las Vegas.

“Y/N?” Ramsay called out to you. You snapped back into reality. You were boarding the plane. You looked around at your first class seats. They were comfy and spacious. You stretched your legs out and tried to relax.

“Tell me what’s going on,” Ramsay said as he fixed his watch. 

“There’s nothing going on.” Ramsay’s hand gripped your thigh. He squeezed it hard.

“Remember how I don’t like liars?” the words came out so easy for him. Any threat seemed to roll off his tongue.   
“The last time I was on a plane like this was Las Vegas,” you hide yourself in Ramsay’s hoodie. His hand rubbed your thigh in circles.

“You’ll be fine. You have me. Nothing is going to happen to you,” he said. Your fingers fiddled with each other and you looked out the window. You heard Ramsay sigh. “I can’t tell you the details here. It’s too public. When we land, I will explain everything, do you understand?” 

You nodded your head, but you kept looking out the window. It was too dark outside.

“Look at me and tell me you understand,” Ramsay’s finger found its way under your chin and he brought your face close to his.

“I understand,” you said.

“Just trust me and be on good behavior,” he ordered you. “Yes? Understand?”

“I understand.”

“Good girl,” Ramsay let go of you. Your eyes went back to the window. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Ramsay’s arm reach over and close the window. “I can’t have you doing that. Focus.”

“I can’t,” you said, looking back at him.

“What are you afraid of? Tell me.” You exhaled and read off your mental list.

“That I’m going to get shot at again, that this is going to go wrong, that we are going to get caught,” you started. “There’s so many things that could go wrong.”

“You were like this at the gala, and what happened at the gala?”

“Nothing.”

“That’s right. Nothing happened,” Ramsay squeezed your thigh again. “You were perfect. You’re still perfect now. You are exactly what I need. You need to relax. Talk to me.”

“About what?” you asked.

“Anything,” Ramsay’s head leaned back on the headrest. He looked at his watch. “We have two hours. Tell me about how you became one of Petyr’s favorites.” You laughed at him.

“Are you sure about that?” you asked. “You were jealous when I showed you my gifts from my clients.”

“I wasn’t jealous,” he shot you a look. “I have no reason to jealous. That’s stupid.”

“Then explain to me why you got so angry,” you challenged him. Ramsay’s hand petted your knee. 

“I shouldn’t be. Are you angry with me?” He looked down. 

“No,” you said. Silence fell between both of you. You watched him draw circles on the top of your knee with his finger. You have explained to him many times who you were, yet he was still angry. He was still jealous. He got rid of Mr. Kress, but why? Was it because he wanted to make you happy? Or was it because he wanted you to be his? 

“Excuse me?” both of you snapped out of your personal thoughts to answer the flight attendant. “Would you both like some refreshments?” She gestured to her cart of beverages. 

“No, thank you, we’re fine,” Ramsay answered. You pouted.

“I didn’t even get to answer.”

“I answered for you.”

“You don’t speak for me,” you raised your voice a bit at him. He grabbed at your thigh. His nails dug into your skin. It stung. 

“I paid for you. I did you a favor. I wouldn’t talk back to me if I were you,” Ramsay warned. The words were cool and casual. You closed your mouth and stayed silent for the entire trip. You knew he didn’t carry any weapons with him on the flight, but Ramsay never made any empty threats. You wondered how he could hurt you in public in the air. 

When you departed from the plane, Ramsay took you by your hand and rushed you out of the plane. You almost tripped yourself twice trying to keep up with his pace. You made him angry. You knew it. You cursed yourself under your breath. Maybe if you calmed him down, he wouldn’t be as mad with you.

“Ramsay?” you said.

“Don’t talk to me,” he snapped back. He looked around at ARRIVALS. Some people reunited with their loved ones. A military captain squealed when she saw her daughter and picked her up to hold her. “There.”

Ramsay pointed towards three men holding a sign for “Darren Grace”. Each of them wore a formal suit with sunglasses. They did not want to be recognized.

“Welcome to Chicago, Mr. Grace,” one of them said. His voice sounded robotic, cold and empty. Ramsay stopped in front of them, and faced the one on the left.

“Well what are you waiting for? Take the bags to the car,” he ordered. The man on the left grabbed yours and Ramsay’s bags and proceeded to carry them towards the exit. The other two men followed him. Ramsay pulled up your hood and faced you. “From this point forward, you are not to speak. You are not to walk. You are not to do anything without my permission. Understand?” You nodded your head. Ramsay pulled out a small box and took out a ring.

“Ramsay—

“Put it on your left finger,” he said. You did as you were told. The ring itself was an abnormally sized diamond surrounded by rubies. The band was silver and it twinkled when you moved it. You felt like giggling. It was beautiful. “You’re not going to ask why?”

You looked up at Ramsay to see his ice blue eyes look back at you. He was waiting for your answer.

“No, I trust you,” you said. “You told me to do it, so I’m doing it.” You hoped that answer was enough. You hoped it would be enough to not start anything. Ramsay bit his lip and continued on. Both of you climbed into the black SUV. The man on the left was in the driver’s seat. The other two climbed into a black SUV behind you. 

You were greeted by a bigger man with a thick brown beard. You didn’t see any discernible tattoos on him, but you did see stitches on his jawline. He waited patiently for you two to settle in the car. Once the door closed and the SUVs were moving, the man started to speak.

“Good evening, Mr. Grace, welcome to Chicago,” he said. “I trust your flight was comfortable and to your usual standards?”

“Yes,” Ramsay narrowed his eyes at the man. 

“Excellent.”

“You’re not going to greet her?” Ramsay’s eyes looked to you and back to him.

“I’m sorry?”

“You’re not going to greet my wife?” You felt your heart beat faster. His wife? He was having you pretend to be wife? You looked to Ramsay who held your left hand. He kissed your knuckles gently. He was showing the ring off. It glittered again. “I find that extremely rude, Umber.”

“I didn’t realize you were married. I apologize. Congratulations,” Mr. Umber smiled and nodded to both of you. “Good evening to you as well, Mrs. Grace.” Something in that sentence gave you butterflies, and it wasn’t ‘good evening’. You watched Mr. Umber’s eyes go over you. Ramsay snapped his fingers in front of his face.

“I know how beautiful my wife is, but I didn’t bring her to Chicago so you can stare at her at your own pleasure,” Ramsay’s hand found its way back to your knee. 

“Right, I apologize, Mr. Grace,” Mr. Umber continued. “I must apologize. I was given directions to go over the details with you alone.” He nodded towards you.

“She’s my wife. She’s a Red King just as much as I am,” Ramsay flung out a butterfly knife. “She’s not a spy. She’s not my pretty thing for the night. She is my wife. So far you have been nothing but rude and annoying. Do you know what happens when I find people annoying, Umber?” Mr. Umber cleared his throat.

“Again, I apologize, Mr. Grace,” Ramsay made this man looked weak. His hands fumbled with a cell phone. Ramsay’s fingers touched the edges of the knife.

“I’m waiting,” Ramsay’s boredom created a thick tension in the car.

“My associates have summoned you here to take care of a high ranking individual, a Mr. Theon Greyjoy,” he started. “Since the Red Wedding, he has become a threat not only for the Winterfell Foundation, but everything that Ned and Cat Stark have left behind. As their ward, he has been spending their money left and right. Gambling, partying, girls. So many girls. He has named himself as Stark children’s guardian and has access to their rightful money. My associates want him gone.”

“If you wanted him gone, you wouldn’t have contacted me. What did he do? What did he really do?” Ramsay asked, still playing with the knife in a bored fashion.

“He’s responsible for the disappearance of the two youngest Stark boys.” You gasped. You knew the wheel was awful. You knew that these people would do anything to be more powerful than the next. You didn’t think that would involve children. 

“Disappearance? Why not murder?” Ramsay sat up. 

“It is still an active investigation. The police will not release much information to us or Sansa Stark. She is in deep mourning.”

“I don’t care about Sansa Stark,” Ramsay rolled his eyes. “Why not wait for the police to conclude the investigation for him to face justice?”

“We know it was him,” Mr. Umber told both of you. “We don’t need the police. We want justice. We want him to suffer the same fate.” His fists balled up, and his face grew red. He was angry. You wanted to cry for him. You wanted to cry for Sansa Stark. 

You looked to see Ramsay who was smiling. He stopped playing with the butterfly knife and put it back in his pocket. He was satisfied. He was excited. 

“Where was he last seen?” Ramsay asked.

“Spies have told us that he has taken up residence inside various high end hotels. He’s been partying with other Greyjoys as well.”  
“Anything else that’s not in the emails?” Ramsay asked. 

“Make him suffer,” Mr. Umber said. The words put chills down your back. These people were awful. The more Ramsay and Petyr threw you into this world, the more you realized how deep and dark it went. You were still at surface level. These were still shallow waters. 

The pair of SUVs pulled up in alleyway away from the main streets of downtown Chicago. You were hidden to the average person, but to the street-wise person who knew the true murder-capital Chicago you were out in the open. 

“With pleasure,” Ramsay responded to Mr. Umber. He helped you out of the car. The bags were taken up to an apartment where Ramsay opened the door and closed it behind both of you. The apartment didn’t have a decent view of the city, but it did have privacy. All of the windows were covered in thick curtains. The brick walls held shelves of travel books and geography. 

The furniture was clean and modern. Much of the kitchen looked to be a part some IKEA catalog. Everything had a place and everything was in its place. 

“I didn’t think you would be a clean freak,” you commented, still looking around.

“I’m not,” Ramsay carried your bags to the bedroom. It was navy blue and gray. The bed was made, and the many pillows were fluffed. “My brother is. This is one of his three places.”

“He lives in three different places?”

“Chicago, Los Angeles, and his new place in New York City,” he began to unpack his own things. You sat on the bed. “You can take off that ring now.” Ramsay tossed you the small box. You looked at the ring again. You couldn’t take it off. No, you had to admit it. You didn’t want to take it off. You bit your lip.

“Can I keep it?” you asked, looking to Ramsay. He was turning on his laptop on the desk.

“No, it’s on a loan. It’s not mine to give,” he said, coldly. You reluctantly took off the ring and placed it back in the tiny box. You wanted to gaze at it more. Your eyes were lost in the facets. “You really liked wearing that, didn’t you?”

“Oh! I’m sorry. I’ll put it away,” you apologized. Ramsay shook his head.

“It’s alright. It’s my brother’s. He plans to propose to his girlfriend soon,” Ramsay took the ring from your hands. You stood there in shock.

“Wait, Domeric has a—

“Yes, he does,” Ramsay interrupted you. “Don’t worry about that.” Your stomach suddenly sank for Charlotte. She was so young. She was so inexperienced. Whenever you saw her, she couldn’t stop talking about Domeric. The way his eyes glittered in the moonlight, the way he smiled, how he smelled. You knew it was too good to be true. 

“Are all of you like this? Do you have a girlfriend too?” you asked. Ramsay stopped typing at his keyboard. He turned to see you sitting on the bed. He rolled his eyes and stood up. You annoyed him. Just when you thought you had made it into the clear, he stood over you silently. He placed his hands at each side of your body. As his hands walked the bed, his body topped yours. His breathing was steady, yours quickened, but you tried to not show it.

“I have no one,” Ramsay told you. His face inches from yours. His legs and arms trapped you on the bed. “But I have you don’t I?” 

You wanted to say yes. You wanted to tell him that you were all his. Your mind wandered back to reality. You were Petyr’s bird. You were one of his favorite and most successful birds. You couldn’t belong to anyone.

“Ramsay, I—you, we are not together.” Ramsay exhaled and rolled on his back on the bed. He looked straight to the ceiling. 

“I know,” he sounded disappointed. “Do you understand why I had you wear the ring?”

“Mr. Umber wouldn’t have told me about Theon Greyjoy if I wasn’t your wife.”

“Exactly. Do you understand now? Why he has to suffer?” Ramsay turned to you. His arms wrapped around you. “I want this time to be different. I want you to understand why Theon Greyjoy has to suffer.”

“I want him to. What kind of person does that to children?” your face turned to his, hoping for some kind of explanation. Ramsay smiled.

“There are people who would do anything for power.”


	11. Say Yes Sir

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know. I know. it's been a while. Trustt me I have not forgotten about Bang Bang. Here it is tho!! Reason why i haven't been able to write is because I am moving to Denver, CO in 2 weeks! GUYS I'm so excited!! 
> 
> Music Inspiration: Happy Go Sucky Fucky - Die Antwoord (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cVosSeEpxYE)

_“Exactly. Do you understand now? Why he has to suffer?” Ramsay turned to you. His arms wrapped around you. “I want this time to be different. I want you to understand why Theon Greyjoy has to suffer.”_

_“I want him to. What kind of person does that to children?” your face turned to his, hoping for some kind of explanation. Ramsay smiled._

_“There are people who would do anything for power.”_

“No, it’s not enough,” Ramsay said, looking you over. “You need to show more skin. It needs to be sluttier. What else do you have?”

“I have this,” you showed Ramsay a short, white dress with small sleeves.

“Put it on,” he ordered. You took your current dress off in front of him. He was watching you. His eyes followed every curve of your body. It had been weeks now. He still hasn’t fucked you. You’ve kissed him. He’s seen you almost naked. You would have thought that he would’ve forced you to have sex by now. 

You saw his eyes. You knew he was a hungry dog. His mouth was salivating.

“That’s it,” he said. “That’s the dress. He’ll want you in that.”

“I’m sure Theon’s friend will enjoy it,” you giggled, hinting your almost desire to Ramsay. “You never do.”

“I’m sure they will, but they’re not your main target. Theon is,” Ramsay sat back down at his laptop.

“I’m confused.”

“You’re seducing Theon, not his friends. You are to find him. Seduce him. Let him bring you back to wherever he wants, and my friends and I will take it from there,” Ramsay explained. “I want you to play a bigger role. I know you’re ready.”

“But, how will I know where you are?” you asked, sitting down at the edge of the bed. Ramsay showed you a small earpiece.

“We’ll be able to hear you, and you’ll be able to hear us,” he carefully placed the earpiece inside your ear. His breathing was steady which sent your heart a hundred miles per hour. No matter how many times you’ve seen it. Ramsay’s job still made you nervous. “Which means I’ll hear everything. If you’re in trouble, I will know right away. I won’t be far.” Ramsay kissed your cheek and gave you a half-smile. He started to pack a bag.

You watched various daggers and knives being carefully placed in their spots. Ramsay slid his laptop in a padded area. He zipped up a dark gray hoodie over his white t-shirt. He offered you his hand, and both of you left the apartment into an unmarked police car.

“This is a cop car,” you mentioned.

“Is it?” Ramsay questioned. “Oh no. Ben, do you hear that? We must return this stolen car to the authorities.” The driver laughed. His dark hair touched his shoulders. His eyes seemed kind to you, but you bet if you pushed him too far you’d regret it. He wore the same as Ramsay except his gray hoodie had bastard’s boy sewn onto the back. You rolled your eyes. Of course Ramsay would have his friends wear matching sweaters that honored him.

The nightlife in Chicago was alive. It beat to a secret heartbeat that could only be heard by the rumble of the trains and click of heels on the concrete. You looked at the other cars around you. They slowed down and changed lanes to avoid you. 

“How did you get this car?” you asked him. Ramsay chuckled and sighed.

“You don’t want to know,” he simply said. His eyes wandered over to you. His hand ran up your thigh. “Ben, have you met Y/N?”

“I haven’t. Good evening, Mrs. Grace,” Ben winked at you. 

“Am I still using my pseudonym?” you asked, knitting your eyebrows together.

“You can if you want,” Ramsay smiled. “Since you seem so attached to it.” Your face grew red. You hated him for it. He could tease you like this, but if you teased him, you would be punished. 

“We’re almost there,” Ben looked at you. “Once we get there, I’ll go in with you. I’m your back-up, Mrs. Grace.”

“You’re coming in with me?” you asked. 

“I am,” Ben reassured you. He looked in the rear window and smiled at you. You smiled back. Ben’s eyes widened and went back to the traffic in front of him. You noticed Ramsay’s glare staring at the rear view mirror. 

Ben parked the stolen police car in the street, and led you to the club entrance. He didn’t touch you, but he stayed close behind you. You watched Ramsay drive away in the car, another car followed him.

 _“Can you hear me, Y/N?”_ you heard Ramsay’s voice in your ear.

“Yes,” you responded. 

_“Good girl,”_ Ramsay said. You could hear his smile over the radio. _“Now, I want you to go into that club alone. It’s very important that you’re alone. He’ll notice you faster. Ben is posted behind you. Should anything go south, he’s your first defense.”_

You arrived at the entrance of the club. A bouncer looked you over. He had a clipboard with a list of names on hand.

_“Don’t tell him your name. Just say ‘valar morghulis’.”_

“Valar morghulis,” you repeated to the bouncer. Without any trouble, he lifted the red rope and let you in. You walked in the entrance.

 _“Magpie is in the building,”_ you heard Ben’s voice. 

_“Good girl,”_ Ramsay’s voice came over the radio again. _“Tell me what you see pretty magpie.”_ You looked around the club. It had two levels. The ground level had a main bar that was lit by neon lights. Attractive men and women manned it. They poured and collected their money quickly, so they could serve the next customer. Couples and singles danced on the raised dancefloor. A female DJ jumped to the hardcore beat. 

On the second floor was private booths and tables. They were catered to by waitresses dressed in tight clothing. You heard glass breaking and turned your head to see a large group of drunk men, arguing and laughing about. One of them had a tattoo with tentacles wrapping their arm. It hung over the barrister spilling a bit of the whiskey that was inside.

“I’ve found them,” you said aloud. 

_“Where are they?”_ Ramsay asked.

 _“I have eyes on them too. Second floor. Private booth on the south side of the building,”_ Ben answered. _“There’s at least five of them. Not including Theon. No eyes on him yet.”_

 _“Y/N, stay down there. Ben, give them a reason to leave the table,”_ Ramsay ordered. _“My pretty little magpie, make yourself comfortable. This should be a good show.”_ You watched Ben silently make his way across the club and up the stairs. He had nothing in his hands. 

Ben grabbed a cane from a table of old men. He took it in his hands like a spear. As he approached the table of Greyjoy’s men, one of them stood up to meet him. Ben stabbed the cane in his face hard. The pointed end made a hole in the Greyjoy’s face. The table stood up and began to go after him. Ben ran out of the club. He looked like a blur. 

They followed him in hot pursuit. It caused ruckus. Most people stopped and watched the altercation. Their heads turned and waited with bated breath to see what would happen. You thought it was only natural as you were doing the same thing. 

_“I’m headed down the block and around Elm Street,”_ Ben sounded rushed. _“Corner them there.”_

 _“Don’t worry, Y/N. Ben will be fine. Go get Theon,”_ Ramsay told you.

You turned your head back to the table. Theon Greyjoy sat by himself. His drink quickly went down his throat and he set the glass back on the table with a satisfied thud. You’d imagine that some women found him attractive. You’d also imagine that some women found him disgusting.

He was dressed in a designer patterned suit. It had gold leaves with a gray background. His hair was slightly messy, but his beard was well taken care of. Attractive indeed. You could only think of the young Stark boys. Their disappearance because of him. You heard Ramsay over the radio.

_“Go on, pretty Maggie, do what you do best. You’re in the clear. His boys won’t be coming back to him.”_

You made your way up the stairs of the club. The old men stared at you as walked by. You were used to their faces. Their tongues licking their lips, one of them whistled at you. It didn’t matter. You had a target. You had a reason. You felt your confidence seeping through the dress and heels. 

“Hello,” you greeted, approaching the table. Theon tilted his slightly-drunken head to you. You watched his mouth open. His eyes dilate. You took the seat next to him. “Why is someone like you alone at a big table like this?”

“My friends and I were disturbed,” Theon told you. “They went off. I stayed back.”

“Oh? And will your friends come back soon?”

“Oh, god I hope not,” Theon looked you up and down. “Care for a drink?” You hummed. You felt his eyes all over you. You knew he didn’t want to drink with you. 

“Why should I care for a drink when we both know where we’ll end up tonight?” You leaned forward, exposing more of your cleavage. You sucked on one of your fingers. “Why can’t we just cut to the chase?”

“Yes, I like that. Let’s go.” 

You took his hand. You felt the bass beating from the speakers, and you’ve never felt so powerful. He wanted you so bad and so easily. It took no work on your part. The colored lights reflected on your faces, changing them to different colors every second. Theon kept looking at you like you were made of the sea: deep, dark, and very dangerous.

 _“Good girl.”_ You heard Ramsay over the radio. Then you heard him clapping. He was very happy with you. _“Very good girl. You work fast. Get your phone out. Start recording, so I can see where you’re going. We’ll follow you.”_

You did as he told you. You hopped in the back of a cab. Theon’s hands ran up and down your thighs. You let him touch you. Why not indulge the victim for a while? After all, you could be the last woman he touched. You flipped out your phone and started recording.

“What are you doing?” Theon asked. His hand never left your body. His body heat transferred to you.

“This is streaming to my live feed. I want everyone to know I’m with The Theon Greyjoy, sexiest entrepreneur of the year,” you giggled and then winked.

“Oh well then, by all means,” Theon smiled. It was a bit crooked, but it was genuine. 

_“My clever little magpie,”_ Ramsay told you. _“I got eyes on you now. You’re headed south.”_ You laughed with Theon. His laugh sounded like the chuckling you would hear from a spoiled brat who got what he wanted. Ramsay’s laugh was darker. It was sexier. You found yourself wanting to hear more directions from him. You heard nothing.

You arrived at a small motel where the neon sign flickered on and off. The walls were dirty. There was other girls dressed like you standing near the property. You secretly smiled to yourself. This place was too perfect. 

“I hope you forgive me,” Theon spoke. “I can’t bring a girl like you back to my own place.”

“Afraid of people finding out about me? Am I such a troublesome girl for you?” You lifted your phone up near his face, but then you focused on the motel sign and the street sign on the corner as Theon kept talking.

“It’s not that, sweetheart. It’s just some of my older associates would not approve of this. Then again, you should be calling me trouble,” Theon grabbed your waist. “Do you know that I am currently being investigated?”

You wanted to slap him. “Oh really? What kind of deeds has this bad boy been up to?”

Theon leaned you against a wall. His face was close to yours. You stared at him back. You didn’t want your eyes to leave his. You wanted him to admit it. He chuckled, but it wasn’t like Ramsay’s. You weren’t scared of him.

“If I told you, you may think me an awful person.” You smirked. 

“I happen to like awful people,” you hoped Ramsay heard you. You watched Theon go inside to get a room for the both of you. Your eyes went back to the girls on the corner. They wore high heel boots, laced up their legs. Short dresses with cigarettes in their hands. You thought of how far you have come. From a stripper to a pimp’s girl to a high end escort and now you were assisting a kidnapping. 

Girls in low places could climb very high in the underbelly of the wheel.

Theon walked out of the office and grabbed your hand. His hold on you was tight, but not enough to hurt. His feet flew up the stairs to the second floor. Keys fumbled in his hand. 

“Almost,” Theon muttered to himself. The keys jumped out of his hand and into the lock. He couldn’t open the door fast enough, and when he did you felt him grabbing at you and closing the door quick behind him. You swore you saw another unmarked police car pull into the parking lot. The girls on the corner scattered.

Theon closed the cheap curtains and turned on the lights. You turned on the A/C, it started to blow out heat, but then it suddenly turned ice cold. Theon had taken off his suit jacket and shirt. You could see his skinny form. He wasn’t muscular, but he had the shadows of abs there. You placed your phone on the dresser.

“Well, where shall we start?” he asked you. With a smirk, you turned your back towards him.

“Maybe you could help me with my clothes?” you teased. Theon’s hands were warm. His right hand unzipped the dress while the left followed the curves of your body. His fingers trailed along your skin. No goosebumps rose, but at least he felt warm. Theon’s lips met with yours. You kissed him back. 

_“He’s touching her. He’s kissing her.”_ You heard. Theon’s hands went through your hair. His fingers tangled in it.

“God, you’re beautiful,” he mumbled to you. He laid you down on the cheap motel bed. It creaked under your weight. Theon went to unbuckle his pants. You could hear the jingling of the belt buckle. You giggled at it, encouraging him to go on.

 _“They’re really going to do it,”_ You heard. _“He’s going to fuck her.”_

Theon’s kiss went deeper and harder. The rest of his pants fell to the floor. His head nuzzled your neck, giving you small kisses. It tickled and excited you. You couldn’t stop giggling. 

“Do you like that?” Theon breathed, almost laughing himself. 

_“No, she doesn’t. Stop that.”_

“Do you want more? I think my friend would like to meet you,” Theon’s hips met yours and you could feel his heavy member near your womanhood. You were impressed. You didn’t think someone with such a small frame could carry such heavy family jewels. “Do you want me?”

 _“No. Tell him, no. I know you can hear me. Tell him no now. Right now, Y/N. Say it!”_ You were caught between your act and doing as you were told. Theon grinded against you, and you half-closed your eyes. You felt him right where you needed it the most. Ramsay never touched you there. Theon smiled.

“I knew it,” he smiled.

Suddenly, the door was kicked down, and four men entered the room. All of them had the Red King symbol on their hands. Two of them took Theon by the arms and peeled him off of you. Theon tried to shout, but his mouth was quickly covered, Heavy boots thudded the floor when he walked in. His eyes were wide. His breathing was slow. His fingers were itching.

“Greyjoy,” he growled, walking closer to him. The two men kept a good grip on him. Theon narrowed his eyes and glared back at the infamous Red King. Theon bit one of the Red Kings. His hand went back. Theon spoke.

“Who the fuck are you?” Theon spat. Ramsay’s dark chuckle echoed in the room. 

“Who the fuck are you?” Ramsay mocked. “Get him in the car. Gag him. You two, guard the door.” The four Red Kings did as Ramsay said like clockwork. Like cogs in a machine Ramsay had perfected. No one questioned him. They gagged Theon’s mouth with a towel and dragged him outside. The other two left the room and shut the door, leaving you and Ramsay alone.

“Ramsay—

“He touched you. He kissed you. He took your dress off.” You stood up. Ramsay saw you in your underwear. His breath hitched. 

“Ramsay, are you mad at me? Or—

“He kept kissing you. He called you beautiful, and he meant it.” Ramsay started to pace around the room. His hands opened and closed. “Did you want him?” You froze.

“I-uhm

“It’s a simple question,” Ramsay pushed you back onto the bed. “Did you want him? Did you get wet from the thought of him fucking you? I saw it. I saw everything. It was on your phone.” Your phone. You never stopped recording. 

“It’s an act, you know that don’t you? You put me up to this. You wanted me to do what I do best,” you defended yourself. Ramsay’s eyes went wide. His nostrils flared.

“Don’t push it,” he spat out. 

“I didn’t want him.”

“He touched you and you responded. You are not his to touch,” Ramsay’s eyes went dark. He grabbed your ankle and pulled your legs towards him. He tugged your panties off and flung them behind him. 

“Ram—

“You are mine to touch, do you understand?” Ramsay towered over you. He undid his pants. He pulled you to edge of the bed. With one hand, he put his member just inside you. A soft moan betrayed you. You’ve been waiting for this. You’ve been waiting for this for a long time.

“You didn’t answer me,” Ramsay rubbed his member up and down your vagina, teasing you. “You are mine, do you understand?” You moaned. “Say yes, sir I understand.”

You were a good girl, and you did as you were told.

“Yes sir, I understand,” your eyes met his. He did not smile at or laugh at you. He only stared. His fingers dug into your legs. You could feel his nails breaking your skin. Ramsay thrusted his member hard inside you. It hurt and took you by surprise. You gasped. He almost pulled all the way out and thrusted inside you again, harder.

“Ramsay, that hurt,” you groaned. Ramsay pressed one hand over your mouth, and his other hand steadied you. You watched that infamous cheeky smile creep up on his face.

“Good,” Ramsay started to thrust faster inside of you. You moaned louder, but no one could hear you. He got into a groove of sharp movements against you. Every time he thrusted, you felt him go deeper and deeper inside you. He let go of your mouth and settled his hands on your hips. He grabbed them, his thumbs right on top of the hip bones. He pushed himself more on top of you. 

He kept going. And going. And going. He had been waiting for this for a long time too. Ramsay’s mouth bit down on your shoulder to let out his pent up steam. You winced. You felt him breathing harder and harder. You could smell the cologne on him from yesterday. You took his entire scent in, and you felt like an animal. Pain never felt this good.

“Harder,” you told him. Ramsay responded by pounding himself into you.

“Harder,” you told him again. You wanted all of him. Your hands pulled at his hair. He pounded as hard as he could into you. You felt yourself grow tighter.

“Har— Ramsay grabbed your neck and squeezed.

“Shut your fucking mouth!” He shouted at you. “Shut your fucking mouth. Fucking whore.” He muttered over and over again. You felt him pound you as hard as he could. Inside, you wanted to giggle and laugh because no one had been this rough, and it felt so damn good. Ramsay’s breathing became ragged and short. He was nearing his end. 

Ramsay’s grip grew tighter. He bit into your shoulder again hard. You cried out in pain, and you felt him release inside of you. He pulled himself out leaving a trail of his mess inside of you and on the bed. Both of you tried to catch your breathing. Once you slowed your breathing you looked at him, he looked exhausted, but satisfied. 

“Do you believe me now?” you asked him.

“Yes,” he said out of breath. “I believe you.”


	12. Show Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good morning everyone! Lots of things to talk about.
> 
> 1\. If you follow me on my tumblr (https://crowkingwrites.tumblr.com/), you would know I recently moved to Denver! That's why I haven't updated this fic in the loooongest time. Adjusting to my new life here has proven more difficult than i wanted it to be, but 'when life gives you lemons'...
> 
> 2\. I haven't forgotten about this fic!! In fact, I finished plotting it out and I can't wait to write it for everyone. I do plan to post here and on my tumblr regularly fro this point on. 
> 
> 3\. On my tumblr, I published a playlist of all the songs that inspired Bang Bang! If you like the music that accompanies the fic, I really suggest you check it out!
> 
> 4\. I would also like to thank everyone on here for your continued patience and support of Bang Bang! during the 'dry spell'. Thank you, thank you, thank you. I hope the wait was worth it :) Please enjoy!
> 
> Music: 'Ready to Blow' - KMFDM (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0PDy_MKYo4A)   
>  'Let Him Burn' - The Relentless (from the upcoming movie American Satan) (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c72X3lyo3lI)

_Ramsay’s grip grew tighter. He bit into your shoulder again hard. You cried out in pain, and you felt him release inside of you. He pulled himself out leaving a trail of his mess inside of you and on the bed. Both of you tried to catch your breathing. Once you slowed your breathing you looked at him, he looked exhausted, but satisfied._

_“Do you believe me now?” you asked him._

_“Yes,” he said out of breath. “I believe you.”_

You laid your head back and exhaled. Ramsay stood up and threw your clothes at you.

“We need to leave,” he told you. “Put them on and let’s go.” You felt a punch in your stomach. Both of you just had sex, and he didn’t look too happy about it. You half-expected to cuddle for two minutes, but this was Ramsay. You should’ve known better.

You slipped your dress back on and carried your heels through the parking lot. Ramsay rushed inside the large van. You watched his eyes grow wide with passion when he laid his eyes on Theon. Theon sat in the back of the van, gagged and slightly frightened.

“Greyjoy,” his voice sounded out every letter in his name as if he was about to eat him alive. “We are going to have so much fun together. I want you to know that.” Theon muffled through the cloth tied tightly around his mouth. 

Ben started to drive the van out of the area. It always amazed you how no one saw any of Red Kings or seemed to notice what just happened. 

“Ramsay, how come you never get caught?” You asked him.

“I’m smarter than you think, pretty bird,” he brought you closer to him. “Red Kings have influence everywhere in Chicago. This is our home.”

“I thought Chicago was run by gangs and paid off politicians?” 

“Most of it is, but my family has our ways,” he explained. “Those girls you saw standing on the corner knew who we were when we pulled up. We’re not a gang. We’re not paid off by the government. We’re assassins. Hitmen. I can make people go away.” Ramsay’s eyes landed back on Theon.

“Who paid for Theon?” You whispered in Ramsay’s ear. Theon’s eyes traced your body. You wondered what kind of thoughts went through his head.

“Knock him out,” Ramsay told one of his men. One man in a suit knocked him out with a punch to the side of the head. “You know the Lannisters. They like to pay off their debts. However, this wasn’t a debt, more of a gift to Sansa.”

“The Lannisters gave a gift to Sansa Stark?” That couldn’t be right. 

“I know it’s hard to believe,” Ramsay scoffed. “Tyrion Lannister thought it would be a good engagement gift to her if he had us get rid of Theon for her. As a way of justice and good fortune.”

“Engagement gift? They’re going to get married?”

“I know. When my father told my brother and me, we didn’t believe it either. It all seems so odd. Sometimes I wonder if they’re all going to marry each other and soon it will be incestuous, rich circle of bastards and cunts.”

“Ramsay!” I giggled. “But seriously, is all that true? I mean, Tyrion’s a…person of smaller—

“He’s a midget. Say it. He’s a midget.”

“Right, and she’s so beautiful and tall. I mean, I’ve never met her, but I have seen pictures of her. She’s a top model heiress if I ever seen one. What is she doing with him?”

“If you had to ask for my opinion, it’s a set up,” Ramsay pulled out his phone and you watched him type in the phone code: 1017. His phone flashed pictures of Sansa Stark and Tyrion Lannister at various events. “They’ve been showing up a different events together and separately now for months, giving the illusion that they are a couple, but not public yet. Tyrion’s not in the family business like Cersei and Jaime are. He’s a political consultant. He helped Joffery become one the youngest mayors in history.”

That was true. When Joffery Lannister entered the political race to become the mayor of New York City, nobody expected him to actually win. The media saw him as a spoiled, wealthy rat until Tyrion took control. Every speech and appearance was a calculated move by his uncle. Tyrion had everyone believing that not only was Joffery capable at doing the job, but that he was the best one for it.

Tyrion even had Sansa appear at Joffery’s side numerous times. She was loved and admired. If Sansa liked him, so could other voters. You didn’t particularly like the Lannister family, but you had to admit, they were good at their jobs.

“Tyrion is too good at his job. Sansa may be beautiful, but she has a lot of anger against the Lannisters and what happened with the Red Wedding,” Ramsay put his phone away. “Something is happening there between the two of them. I don’t know what.”

The van pulled up to an unmarked office building. Ramsay’s men carried Theon inside. His arms dangled. You watched his eyes roll back again before following Ramsay to the elevator. The lights flickered inside and the last inspection was done seven years ago. 

“Where are we?” you looked at the dirty floor and noticed a pee stain in the corner. 

“Headquarters,” Ramsay pushed the 7th floor button and up you went. “My father bought this building before Dom and I were born. He’s been using it as an ‘office’ for some time. Now, we use these rooms for investigation, questioning, research, and other things.”

Something told you ‘other things’ didn’t mean office work. 

The elevator shook and it came to a stop. The doors opened to a half-furnished floor. It was clear there was beds, but their condition looked like as if they had been there collecting dust for years. Several side tables were scattered around. A sectional couch was spread apart, and in the corner was a coffee machine that looked in perfect order.

“That’s new,” Ramsay commented, gesturing to the coffee machine. “Ben must have put that there.” Ramsay shrugged and turned it on. “You can stay here if you wish. Make yourself comfortable. We’ll be here for a while.” 

The streetlights streamed in the room, highlighting the rips of the fabric on the couches and beds. A musty smell rose up to my nose. You thought about Sansa’s little brothers. If they are alive, would they be in a place like this? What did Theon do with them? And why?

“Those boys,” you began to say.

“The Red Kings have nothing to do with that,” Ramsay poured himself a black coffee. “I don’t have a high opinion of the Starks, but loyalty is loyalty.”

“Loyalty? You’re not doing this for the money?” you questioned him.

“Of course I’m doing this for the money, you sweet idiot,” Ramsay chuckled. “But I can’t ignore the political works of it all. The Red Kings have worked for all sides. The Lannisters, the Tyrells, the Starks, the Martells. All of them. The more we work for one, the more benefits we reap. Maybe not today or tomorrow, but the Starks will reward us for Theon.”

Ramsay put down the cup and walked towards you.

“Stay here, pet,” he kissed your cheek briefly. “Go on, make yourself comfortable. It’s going to be a long night.”

You don’t know what possessed you. You don’t know why you did it. You don’t know why you asked. Maybe because you were growing morbid. Maybe because you felt awful about those two young Starks boys. They were children. Or maybe you let Ramsay into your head.  
“What are you going to do to him?” you asked. Ramsay turned and cocked his head.

“What do you me—

“I want to see. I want to watch,” you said all too confident. It fell out of your mouth and it was too late to take it back. Ramsay shut his mouth and opened it again.

“Weeks ago, you could barely handle the thought of assisting me. Now, you want to watch?” you could see a shadow of Ramsay’s smile on his face.

“Yes,” you told him. You were sure this time, so you stood your ground. Ramsay’s smile crept to his ears.

“Well, that’s interesting,” he offered you his hand. “Come here.” What were you even thinking? He was right. He was a hitman. An assassin specializing in torture and pain. He enjoyed his job, and here you were holding his hand about to watch him do what he does best.

This was wrong. You were going to witness a brutal crime. 

Ramsay never let go of your hand as the elevator descended to the basement of ‘headquarters’. His thumb caressed your knuckles. You glanced over at him. He bit his lip to hide his smile. His foot tapped on the floor repeatedly. 

The doors opened to a dimly lit hallway. Drops of water leaked in the hallway. It dripped and dripped and dripped. It was a constant. It felt like a slow torture, but you knew Ramsay could do worse than just leaky water. Other doors led to different people locked up in the other rooms. You could hear pained groans coming through the wooden doors. 

“Who else is here?” you asked. 

“None of your concern, Y/N,” Ramsay told you. His hand led you to the last door in the hallway. It looked no different from the others, but you could hear Theon’s ragged breathing on the other side. Ramsay opened the door and let you in first, almost like a gentleman.

The room had a bit more lighting than the hallway. Theon was in the middle of the room tied down to a table, like a death row prisoner. His arms were constricted by leather straps. Beads of sweat came from his forehead. Above him was a two headed surgery ceiling light that illuminated his body as if this was Ramsay’s show and Theon was the main event.

You wanted to be disgusted, but you couldn’t let go of the thoughts. He deserved this.

Ramsay stepped up to Theon and closed in on his face. His fingers spread out on his chest and he caressed him. 

“Well, well, well,” he began. “Do you know why you’re here?” he asked him. Theon provided no answer. He only looked at Ramsay, and he turned his head to you. “No, no. Don’t look at her. Look at me.”

“I don’t know,” he muttered out.

“You don’t know,” Ramsay tsked. “How about we make it a game? If you can guess who I am, where we are, and why you are here, I’ll let you go. If you can’t, you lose the game.” Ramsay walked around him. You saw a flaying knife in his fingers. 

“Please.”

“Please is not a place or a person, Theon. Come on, now.”

“If I win this game, you’ll let me go?” Theon asked him. You turned to Ramsay to watch his response. Ramsay closed in on Theon’s face again.

“If you think this has a happy ending, you haven’t been paying attention,” Ramsay chuckled at him. Theon started to choke out sobs. You’ve never seen a weaker man in your life. You felt a smile creep up on your face. 

“Pl—

“Say please again, and I’ll make you wish you hadn’t,” Ramsay held the flaying knife close to his chest. Theon took a deep breath and silenced himself.

“You first,” Ramsay readied his knife at Theon’s fingers. “Where are we?”

“Chicago,” Theon said.

“No, too broad, be more specific.”

“Downtown, by the lake,” Theon guessed. Ramsay laughed out loud. You heard one of his associates laugh as well. They stood in the dark away from the light.

“Terrible guess!” Ramsay took his knife and dug it deep into Theon’s pinky finger. You watched Theon writhe and hold in his pain. “Now, where?”

“East Chicago, in Indiana,” Theon’s back moved against the table.

“Do I look like a fucking Umber to you?” Ramsay went at his pinky finger again. The knife went down the middle of the finger, slicing it open. Blood oozed out in streams. The table shook and creaked as Theon moved against it harder.

“The Loop!” Theon shouted out. Ramsay stopped.

“How did you know that? Did you see anything when you came in? Any signs or markings?” Theon shook his head.

“No,” he breathed out. “Just a guess.” Ramsay walked away from him and towards you. Confused, you opened your mouth to say something. Ramsay put a finger to his mouth.

“Are you enjoying the show?” he whispered to you. “No your head for yes. Shake for no.” You nodded your head. Theon was in pain, not too much pain, but he was distressed.

“Do you like watching him like this?” You nodded your head again. You felt Ramsay’s hand settle on your back. He brought you closer to him. “Do you want to see more?” 

Your mind flashed back to the club where he was cocky and slightly drunk. And then at the hotel where you felt him against you. He had no remorse about those boys. He was celebrating life knowing those boys could be dead and that it was his fault.

Theon looked back at you, trying to puzzle-piece together who you were and why you were with his torturer.

“No, I know who you are,” Theon’s eyes went to Ramsay’s. “You’re a Red King. You’re hired assassins. We’re at the headquarters. Somewhere near the harbor and the steel mills.”

“Very good, Theon,” Ramsay turned back to him. “How did you know?”

“You tattoo, the X,” Theon’s eyes pointed out Ramsay’s left hand. “I’ve seen it before. You were hired to torture me. The Stark boys. I killed them. I betrayed Robb Stark. That’s why you’re torturing me.” Ramsay frowned. 

“Yes,” he sounded displeased. He played his flaying knife. “You win.” Theon gave out a big sigh of relief. He let his head rest on the table and closed his eyes. Ramsay twirled the knife down and looked to the ground for a moment. Silence filled the room. 

You frowned too. The game was over just like that. Ramsay made a deal. He had to let Theon go. He won the game. You felt a scowl form on your face. He was going to get away with it. Little did you know, Ramsay watched you slowly go from a smile to a scowl. 

“Of course, you forgot something,” Ramsay said looking at you. His eyes smiled at you. “You’re guilty for so much more than that. Aren’t you Theon?”

“What? What do you mean?”

“You went and touched something that wasn’t yours,” Ramsay said and turned to Theon. “Was she yours to touch?” He pointed at you. Theon scoffed.

“She was throwing herself at me! Like some slut!” Theon shouted. That word. It was caught in your throat. Ramsay watched you go from serious to hurt in seconds. You crossed your arms and looked away from Theon. Ramsay met your eyes, and something clicked.

“Wrong,” Ramsay lowered his voice. “She doesn’t belong to you. She doesn’t want you, and you were forcing yourself on her. Weren’t you?” Ramsay dug the knife into the same finger. Theon shouted in pain. 

“She wanted me! Ask her! She was throwing herself at me!” 

“I don’t need to,” Ramsay said. He looked at you. “I don’t need to ask her because I trust her.” He said it again. You weren’t sure the first time, but he said it again. This time in front of other people. He meant it. He did trust you. “Half the reason this is happening to you is because of the Stark boys, do you want to know that other half?”

“Because of her?” Theon groaned in pain. Ramsay squeezed his pinky finger, releasing more blood.

“Because she enjoys it,” Ramsay watched you smile, and for the first time you felt happy because someone else was in pain. You started to realize why Ramsay liked his job. 

“Hurt him,” you blurted out, uncrossing your arms. Ramsay’s fingers dug inside Theon’s finger. Ramsay started to pull at a nerve. Theon cried out in pain.

“Beg him!” you shouted. “Beg him to cut it off!”

“Fuck!” Theon screamed. 

“Do it! Beg him to cut it off!” you screamed at him. Ramsay twisted the nerve. Tears trailed down Theon’s face.

“Cut it off! Cut it off! Make it stop!” Theon pleaded. Ramsay cut Theon’s pinky finger off. It fell to the floor with a small thud. You made your way to satisfied Ramsay. Your mouth found his and your hands found his hair. He kissed you back with the same enthusiasm. You broke the kiss first, almost gasping for breath. He leaned his forehead against yours.

“Satisfied, pretty bird?” he asked you. His blue eyes bore into yours. He wanted an honest answer. Your hand found his and you held it there.

“You could do worse,” you felt your creepy smile go to your ears and it felt good. Ramsay turned back to Theon, flaying knife in hand. 

“You’re right,” Ramsay trailed the flaying knife down Theon’s chest.

“I want you to show me,” you demanded. Theon choked out a few sobs.

“As you wish, Y/N.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, I do like to hear feedback. I read all the comments that people give me. So, if you have thoughts, comments, questions, and/or any critique please share!


	13. Petyr's Surprise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is mostly fluff-ish things?? Enjoy it anyways :* But I'm back to posting regularly and I'm realllly happy about that!
> 
> Music: Judas - Lady Gaga ( https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wagn8Wrmzuc )

_“You could do worse,” you felt your creepy smile go to your ears and it felt good. Ramsay turned back to Theon, flaying knife in hand._

_“You’re right,” Ramsay trailed the flaying knife down Theon’s chest._

_“I want you to show me,” you demanded. Theon choked out a few sobs._

_“As you wish, Y/N.”_

The sun streamed through the blinds in Domeric’s apartment. You turned away from the light and faced Ramsay’s half-awake face. His blue eyes were half open. He stared back into your e/c eyes and snorted awake.

“You’re an ugly sleeper,” you said to him quietly. You felt an arm snake around your torso. He pulled you closer to him and shut his eyes again.

“Careful, Y/N,” he growled. “You don’t want to make me angry. I’ll break you.” Somehow after what you witnessed last night, you didn’t think he would hurt you. You decided to push your limits.

“You snort in your sleep. Did you know that? You don’t snore. You just snort like a fat pig,” you said it into his ear with a smile on your face. Ramsay closed the space between you both. His lips crashed into yours. His arm tightened around you, and his other hand tangled into your hair. He pulled at it sending your head back. He followed your head and kept kissing you.

You kissed him back with as much enthusiasm as you could you give him. You put your hands on his bare chest. The winged beast didn’t look as menacing as the first time you saw it. Now, it looked hotter. You wanted to trace the wings of the demonic tattoo with your tongue. Before you could, Ramsay pulled your head back again. His mouth attacked your neck.

He bit and sucked on it until he heard you moan for more. Suddenly, Ramsay stopped. He pulled away from you. Confused and a bit angry, you sat up and looked at him. He smiled.

“I told you to not make me angry.”

“But you didn’t break me,” you corrected him.

“But I could if I wanted to,” You watched him breathe. The chest tattoo moved with every breath. It looked like it was choking, waiting for some release. His hair was untidy. His arms were muscular and toned. He knew what he looked like. He looked hungry.

“Do you want to break me?” you asked him. Ramsay’s eyes took their time on you. They traced every line and curve. He studied you for a lot longer than you thought he would. His fingers traced up your arm, giving you goosebumps. He reached the tips of your hair. He slowly tangled his fingers in it. Then, he grabbed a fistful and pulled you back down in bed. Your face hit the pillow. You turned your face to the side to breathe.

Ramsay pulled down your underwear to your knees. Still keeping your head down, he lifted your hips up to meet his hips.

“Do I want to break you? No,” he responded to your question. You heard clothes moving and then his dick against you. “It’s not a want, Y/N. It’s a need.” He moved himself inside of you and you let out a wonderful sigh. He kept his hand on your head, keeping you down. He moved in and out of you like a constant rhythm.

His hand moved from your head to your hips. One kept you steady, the other spanked you on your ass. You yelped from the pain. He spanked you over and over again, turning the spot a bright red. 

“You getting off on this, aren’t you sweetheart?” he laughed out loud. He pulled himself out from you. You saw how hard he was from you. A small amount of his cum leaked from his tip, oozing slowly out. You crawled over to him and put your mouth around him. You heard his satisfied groan. “Oh, you’re such a good girl. I didn’t even have to tell you. You just knew.”

Ramsay grabbed a hold of your hair again. He pulled at it to control your head back and forth on him. You let your tongue explore his tip. His breath hitched. He groaned loud and yanked your head so his dick went in farther into your mouth. It reached a familiar spot for you, but it was hard for you to breathe. You were losing air every second his dick reached a new spot at the back of your mouth. 

You started to cough and choke on him, but he didn’t move. Tears formed in your eyes, and you felt like you were burning.You let your teeth do the warning and you bit down on him slightly. Ramsay winced and pulled out of you. You grabbed at him and positioned your mouth under him. You knew he was close. He felt hard in your hands. 

Without warning, he spilled all over your face. Drops of it went into your mouth. Other drops were scattered all over your face and chest. Ramsay stared you down hard and laughed. “I know you hate the word. I know you don’t like it, but you’re such a fucking slut. I love it. I love it so damn much.”

You both heard Ramsay’s phone go off. You stood up to see who was calling. The caller ID had Domeric’s picture flashing across it. Ramsay went to answer it. You decided to clean up yourself. Your eyes landed on a pair of leggings and one of Ramsay’s t-shirts. 

You slipped on the leggings, but you held the shirt in your hands. Didn’t girlfriends wear their boyfriend’s shirts all the time? Were you his girlfriend? Ramsay never used the word ‘girlfriend’, at least he never referred to you as his girlfriend. 

“No, no. I wasn’t alone. Y/N was there too,” you heard him say. You listened in more. “It’s fine, Domeric. I trust her. She’s not Petyr’s plaything.” He said it again. The words warmed you. ‘I trust her.’ Petyr told you to get him to trust you. It was your job, but now it felt good. Things were starting to feel good with him.

You watched him talk on the phone with his brother. He paced back and forth with a pair of jeans and no shirt. His head and shoulder held the phone while he lit a blunt in his mouth. He exhaled smoke into the bedroom. The smell of marijuana entered your nose.

“Greyjoy will be under my supervision, but not today. I’m taking the day off. Why? Because I can and I want to. You can’t tell me what to do. No, I don’t care if you’re the older brother,” watching Ramsay argue with his older brother was endearing. He took another hit off the blunt before speaking again. “Because it’s my girlfriend’s last day in Chicago and I want to spend it with her, dumbass.”

He said it.

“What?” you said aloud. “What did you call me?” Ramsay held up a finger and continued talking to Domeric.

“Don’t fucking argue with me. I can take care of things on my end. If you’re going to tell Dad, go on. He won’t fucking care. He knows I get my shit done. No, fuck you.” Ramsay hung up the phone and screamed in the air. He sighed and then looked at you. “What?”

“You said I was your girlfriend,” you stood there, still holding his shirt. Ramsay froze. 

“I did, didn’t I?” he questioned himself. “Fuck.”

“No, it’s okay.”

“It’s okay? You aren’t allowed to have a boyfriend,” Ramsay reminded you. Then you remembered who you really belonged to. Who you were. Where you lived. It all came back to you. Your face fell. Ramsay came over to you. “Y/N?”

“No, I just—I’m fine,” you told him. This long weekend went by too fast. You didn’t want to go back to the Bird Cage.

“Wear the shirt,” Ramsay ordered. 

“But it’s your shirt.”

“I am your client, aren’t I? You have to do as I say. I want you to wear my shirt.” 

“Thank you,” you said as you kissed him on the cheek. You caught a shadow of a smile on his face. “What are we doing for my last day here?”

“Seeing as you never been Chicago before, I figured we could go to the Bean.”

“That giant mirror thing?”

“Believe it or not, it’s pretty cool to look at,” he assured you. Ramsay was right. When you arrived, it never dawned on you that the Bean was in a beautiful park in downtown Chicago. People from all walks of life came to take pictures by the Bean. Lots of young girls and boys took selfies with their friends. Families on vacation had strangers taking pictures for them.

The Bean itself was indeed a giant mirror in the shape of a bean, but underneath it was room enough for a classroom of students. It was a tourist thing to do, but you were glad you were here. You held up your phone and snapped a few pictures with Ramsay, no matter how reluctant he was. 

Near the Bean was an interesting fountain. There was two narrow, glass brick walls. Both of them projected faces of people on them. When the faces made an ‘O’ with their mouth, water would shoot out of them. You watched small children play in the fountain. 

Your phone buzzed and you saw several texts coming from Ros and Charlotte. You tried to keep up, but they just kept coming. Something was wrong. 

“What’s going on?” Ramsay asked. 

“He’s selling it. Petyr is selling the Bird Cage,” you stood there in shock. 

“What?” Ramsay cocked his eyebrow. “Why would he do that?”

“I don’t know! This is weird,” you waited for the texts to stop. You started to scroll through Ros’ and Charlotte’s string of texts. “We’re being split up. Most of the birds are going to a new property in Malibu. Somewhere called the Haren-Hall.”

“Malibu? That’s far from New York. What about you?” 

“All of the favorites are going to the Vale in Vegas,” you responded. You were going back there. The one place you thought you escaped from.

“Vegas,” Ramsay repeated. “Shit. That’s really sudden.”

“Yeah,” you confirmed for yourself. There was no way this was going to work. You let go of yourself and sat at a bench nearby. “This is my last day seeing you isn’t it?”

“What are you talking about?”

“There’s no way you could go to Vegas on a regular basis at least not for someone like me,” someone had to say it out loud. “I’m going to Vegas whether I like it or not. You can’t follow me there.” Ramsay looked confused.

“Yes I can,” Ramsay began. “My job isn’t stationary. It never has been. I share a house with my boys in LA. I stay in Domeric’s apartment in Chicago. My father has his home in New York. I stay in hotels under different names all the time. Truth is, I’ve been staying away from home for a while because of you.”

“Wait, do you mean you don’t live in New York? You’ve just been staying with your dad this whole time?” Ramsay nodded. “Why?”

“I told you. It’s because of you,” Ramsay took one of your hands. “I’ve become weirdly attached to you. So, if you’re going to Vegas, then so am I.” You wanted to smile, but he held up a finger. “Your job has limits, so does mine. My father and brother caught on as to why I’ve been only taking jobs in New York. I can’t limit my talents because of one girl. I may have to take jobs that take me away from you.”

“I understand,” you said a little too quickly. 

“We can’t be together all the time, and you’re okay with that?”

“As long as I know you’re okay,” you held onto his hand. Ramsay’s face grew red for a moment, but he shook it off.

“I can’t tell you every detail about my hits. There’s going to be times where I can’t tell you where I am. Sometimes I won’t be able to talk to you at all.”

“This is going to be hard.”

“I knew that the minute I kissed you,” Ramsay squeezed your hand. “Besides, Vegas isn’t as bad as you remember it to be. You are under Petyr’s protection. And you’re under mine. Nothing bad will happen to you.”

Before you knew it, you were at the airport again. You waved goodbye to Ben, and you left the car. Ramsay stood behind for a moment. Ben Bones gestured to you and winked at Ramsay. Ramsay gave Ben the finger and rolled his eyes. He walked over to you, and Ramsay opened the door.

“What was that about?”

“It seems as the bastard’s boys know about our little tryst,” Ramsay expressed to you. “They knew about the hotel and they heard us this morning.”

“They heard us?” you exclaimed. Ramsay nodded with eyes shut. “Are you embarrassed?”

“No, I wanted them to know. I’m not going to hear the end of this for a while,” Ramsay looked around in the airport, watching people. “It’s not going to be as bad as you would think.”

“Will I ever meet them all? The Bastard’s Boys?” 

“Yeah. One day. They’re all actually coming today.” 

“What?” You turned to Ramsay. “Is that why you only had me for a weekend? So, I wouldn’t cross paths with them?” He shook his head.

“I’ve changed plans with Theon,” Ramsay begun, handing you your bags. “I’m doing something new.”

“Does your father know?” you asked. 

“I don’t need his permission. It shouldn’t concern you anyways,” he said coldly. “Besides, my father gave me orders to take care of more Greyjoy men. You and I won’t see each other for a while.”

“I don’t want to go back there,” you confessed, not meeting Ramsay’s eyes. “I don’t want to move to Vegas. I want to stay here with you.” Ramsay took his thumb and ran it over your lips.

“You can’t,” he told you quietly. “It’s going to get messy. You don’t need to be caught up with all of that. Go home. Pack. Move to Vegas. Get settled there. I’ll see you sooner than you think,” he placed a kiss on your forehead softly. You felt him inhale in your hair, and then he left you. He walked away so fast that you didn’t get a word of goodbye to him. You wanted him to look back at you. You waited.

You watched him leave the airport as quick as both of you arrived.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How would you guys feel if I wrote a Halloween themed one shot for Ramsay? I've been contemplating it.


	14. Swear to Me Never to Tell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Idk if any of you are Rick and Morty fans (I'm like a casual fan.) But there's an episode where Rick and Morty just sit in a spaceship after a hard mission and they just begin crying and screaming. That was me. That was me writing this damn chapter. FUCK. Jesus Grilled Cheese Christ. (Actually, a grilled cheese right now sounds delicious.) But its done. Its here. Ya'll waited long enough.
> 
> Music: Electra Heart - Marina and the Diamonds ( https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mhHrrVlshQ8 )

_“I don’t want to go back there,” you confessed, not meeting Ramsay’s eyes. “I don’t want to move to Vegas. I want to stay here with you.” Ramsay took his thumb and ran it over your lips._

_“You can’t,” he told you quietly. “It’s going to get messy. You don’t need to be caught up with all of that. Go home. Pack. Move to Vegas. Get settled there. I’ll see you sooner than you think,” he placed a kiss on your forehead softly. You felt him inhale in your hair, and then he left you. He walked away so fast that you didn’t get a word of goodbye to him. You wanted him to look back at you. You waited._

_You watched him leave the airport as quick as both of you arrived._

You opened the door to the Bird Cage to find a mixture of chaos and order. Boxes were stacked in various piles. Furniture was moved around in separate corners. You stepped on a piece of moving tape that was connected to a box that was labeled ‘Kitchen’. 

Quickly, you carried your bags to your room. Other favorites had their doors open and boxes outside their door. You heard a squeal behind you. Arms flung around you and held you tightly.

“You’re alive!” Ros yelled into your ear. “Thank God! I thought the assassin prince was going to kill you or hurt you.”

“He didn’t,” you replied. “He wouldn’t hurt me.” Ros made a face at you.

“Oh really now?”

“Yes, really,” you said with confidence. You heard a loud noise from Vanessa’s room. “What is going on around here?” 

Upon entering Vanessa’s room, you find make-up spilled everywhere, and a very frustrated woman about to lash out. Vanessa’s room was mostly packed. Her closet and dressers were empty. Sheets, blankets, pillows, all packed. 

“Vanessa?” you asked. She turned to face you with a disgusted look on her face. The disgusted look faded into an apologetic smile.

“Hello, Y/N,” she greeted, standing up. “Sorry about that. I thought you were someone else.”

“Petyr?”

“No, one of his teeny little birds,” Vanessa corrected you. “I goddamn hate those little girls.”  
“Good thing you won’t have to deal with them anymore then. Since we’re going to Vegas,” you said, entering the room and picking up the mess. Ros followed.

“No, you and all the other favorites are going to Vegas. I’m going with the rest of the birds to Malibu.”

“What why?” You stopped to look up at her. Vanessa closed her door.

“Baelish wants me to teach his little babies. He wants me to be their den mother and to nurture them into perfect little whores.” Vanessa ignited her lighter and lit her cigarette. “This whole place is going to shit because of her.”

“Who?”

“Lysa Arryn. Ever since they got engaged, everything’s changed—

“Whoa, wait,” you held up your arms “Petyr’s engaged to Lysa Arryn?”

“Yeah where have you been?” Ros asked. “Have you been so self-involved with the assassin boy that you haven’t seen what’s been going on?” 

“Assassin boy?” Vanessa asked out of confusion. A moment later, she realized who Ros was speaking about, and she turned sharply to you. “Ramsay? You’re still seeing him? Are you insane?”

“No!” you stood up. “I’m not insane. Yes, I’m still seeing him. He’s my bo—client, and I will keep seeing him until I don’t want to anymore. Besides, he takes good care of me.” Vanessa crossed her arms.

“You need to be careful with boys like him. He’s not who you think he is.”

“I know him better than you,” you said. “He won’t hurt me.” Vanessa rolled her eyes and sighed.

“As I was saying, Lysa has got her hands in everything, as does Petyr. He has all of the success to the Vale in Vegas now which is why you’re going there. Cersei gifted Petyr Harenhall Church in Malibu.”

“A church?” you inquired.

“An abandoned one,” Vanessa picked up the rest of her make up to pack it away. “I’m not sure why. But, they renovated it for us. Some of the girls are excited to go to Malibu, others are angry that the favorites get better treatment.”

“You’re frustrated,” you said.

“This is all so sudden, don’t you think? The engagement, the moving, everything. Did you see this coming? Something’s going on here. Petyr’s not telling us everything.”

“I know you’re suspicious, Vanessa, but maybe it’s for the best.”

“I agree with Y/N,” Ros added. “Petyr has never driven us down the wrong path.”

“I’ve known Petyr for a long time, girls,” Vanessa sat down and took another drag of her cigarette. “He tells me everything. He didn’t tell me about Lysa. He didn’t tell me about moving. It’s just as a shock to you as to me. This isn’t him. I don’t know what he’s planning.

“I know that he’s keeping an eye on the Red Kings for Cersei, allied with the Red Kings against the Freys and Lannisters, and somehow he’s got his hands dirty with the Arryns and Starks. But why now? Why get engaged so fast? He doesn’t love her. He never did.” Vanessa growled with frustration. The thought of leaving her alone started to sound better and better.

After packing a few boxes yourself, Charlotte and Ros entered your room and closed the door behind them. They put a finger to your mouth before you could protest.

“We came to talk,” Charlotte said. “We have an idea for you.”

“We want to team up to gather more information on the Red Kings,” Ros said it flat out. You narrowed your eyes on her for a moment, and then it hit you. All this time, you were supposed to be gathering information on the Red Kings for Petyr. Ros was right. You were self-involved with Ramsay. 

“Yes. Yeah. That sounds good,” you nodded. Telling Petyr about Theon wasn’t going to be easy. 

“Well, several of the Red Kings have told me about plans against the Lannisters. It seems that Roose doesn’t trust Cersei,” Ros commented. 

“Not true,” Charlotte disagreed. “Domeric told me that Cersei is suspicious of her own spies. Some of them have proved disloyal to her recently. Her little brother, Tyrion, may have bought some of them.”

“Fair,” Ros nodded. “The feud between the Freys and the Boltons is still going on though. Ted and his guys got into a bustle last night with them. The Freys don’t mean much, but they’re making a lot of noise for a gang led by a bitter old man.”

“You could say the same for the Red Kings,” Charlotte laughed, it filled the room. “Roose is a bitter man, but he makes calculated moves. You two need to be careful. Roose has Red Kings everywhere.” You narrowed your eyes at Charlotte for a moment, but then looked to Ros.

“How many Red Kings are you with?” you asked her.

“Three, they’re my main clients now. Why?”  
“You have three Red Kings. Charlotte has Domeric Bolton, and I have Ramsay,” you walked around the room. “Charlotte’s right. Maybe we do need to be careful. Things could get sloppy if any of them figure out what we’re doing here.” Ros and Charlotte agreed. 

The Vale had been a classic Las Vegas casino and resort for a long time. Lysa married into the Arryn fortune just as Catelyn married into the Stark fortune. People were suspicious when she became a widow so suddenly, but rumors were swept aside when Ned Stark signed a tight contract with Robert Baratheon.

She had inherited everything, and rightfully so. She had kept her counselors close to her during her time of need while being a single mother and running a high-end business. Although, those rumors about her mental well-being never went away.

Landing in Vegas wasn’t easy, your stomach turned into knots. Ros grabbed your hand and led you through the airport.

“Keep it together,” she whispered into your ear. “You can do this.”

“I don’t feel so good,” you replied. Charlotte looped her arm around yours, taking you other side.

“Can you believe this? Vegas! We live in Vegas!”

Ros shot charlotte a dirty look. “You know Vegas isn’t all that. We are here to work, not play. Besides, we three still need to gather information, get new clientele, and make money.” You looked around. It still had the same feeling. 

People excited to win. People excited to fuck. The same under feeling of depression and addiction still raised your hairs on the back of your neck. Vegas was not a family-friendly town, it was one riddled with something awful.

“You’re doing it again,” Ros still guided you through the airport. “Just like when we met the Red Kings. You’re getting nervous over nothing.”

“I was right to be nervous back then.”

“I thought you said Ramsay didn’t hurt you.”

“He didn’t.”

“Then why get nervous now?” You looked around the outside of the airport, and then in the car. Everything was completely harmless, but the same feeling lingered like the smoke of a cigarette. Growing thin, but you could still smell it in the air.

“Memories,” you muttered to yourself. The car drove you and the favorites straight into downtown Vegas. It still looked the same in the daylight. You tried to not let it get to you. Breathing, breathing would work. You closed your eyes and let breathing become your focus. You breathed in and let the darkness wash over you. 

Everything felt still. Everything felt calm. This was a different Vegas. This was not the Vegas you came to years ago. You were protected. You were smarter. Everything was going to be fine.

When the favorites arrived at the Vale, you were almost beside yourself. You had your own room again, but it was so much bigger this time. You had a queen sized bed along with two matching night stands. If you walked a couple of paces it led to a balcony with furniture outside. 

Next to the balcony was a wall of windows that overlooked a main street of Vegas. It looked smaller, and less intimidating. A marble bathtub sat by the window on a platform. Once you lived here longer and with some permission, you wanted to put some of your own touches on everything.

You heard a knock at the door. “Come in.”

“Y/N,” Petyr entered. “It’s been a while hasn’t it?” He smiled at you like an old friend. You nodded still looking around your surroundings.

“It has,” you replied. Petyr closed the door behind him. 

“So, tell me what you think.” He gestured to your new room.

“This is all so sudden, Petyr,” you told him. “I mean, the engagement, moving. What’s this about? I feel like you’re not telling us something.” Petyr sat down at one of your soft lounge chairs.

“I could say the same about you,” he folded his hands. “It’s been a couple of days since you came back, and yet no word about Chicago.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Everything,” Petyr waited for you to start. This was his deal. He let you go away with Ramsay to Chicago. Now it was time. You couldn’t lie to Petyr, he would know. 

“The Red Kings or Ramsay and his men were after Theon Greyjoy. They used me to help kidnap him, and they tortured him.”

“Why? Is it because of the Stark boys?”

“Yes,” you shifted your eyes around the room. “Ramsay told me this was Tyrion’s doing. He paid for the hit. For Sansa Stark.” Petyr’s eye twitched when you mentioned her name. His fingers fumbled, and his breath hitched. He regained his composure and continued.

“Did they kill him?”

“No, but they kill some of his friends,” you kept going. “Ramsay’s after them now.”

“The Greyjoys?”

“Yes,” you confirmed. You felt a pang in your stomach, and it kept growing. “I think Roose is trying to get the Stark’s and Lannister’s favor.” Why would you say that? You didn’t know that. You watched Petyr mumble something like ‘he’s working against me’ under his breath. He stood up and exhaled loudly.

“Anything else?” Petyr asked you.

“I saw his phone,” you blurted out. “I could get access to it.” Petyr smiled widely and gave you a warm hug. 

“I knew I could depend on you,” he said into your ear. “I knew you wouldn’t let me down, unlike other girls.” Petyr let you go, and you felt puzzled.

“Other girls?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Petyr explained. “Let’s just say everyone I brought here I trust them. Now, no playing around for anyone tonight. All of you start working, but four of you have important tasks. Olyvar and Ros are going to be with Lannisters. Charlotte is being escorted by one of the top lawyers for the Vale at a dinner tonight, and you, my dear, have a new client who is very excited to meet you.”

“Who is he?”

“Andrew Dustin,” Petyr started. “He caught word of us moving here and he wanted to set up a meeting with you. Very nice gentleman.”

“What’s his deal?” you crossed your arms. Petyr never let nice gentlemen come to you.

“He told me that if he gets to be with one of my favorite birds, he will give me important documents that could lead to Joffery Lannister’s impeachment. I want you to get me any information you can anyways. It could serve us well.”

“Joffery’s impeachment?”

“Yes,” Petyr replied. “With Joffery gone, Cersei and the rest of the family lose a major part of their influence on this country and the wheel.”

“I thought we were allied with the Lannisters?” Petyr honed in on you.

“Everyone is our friend. Everyone is our enemy. Everyone around you can and cannot be trusted. You have to see every possibility, understand?”

“Why are you telling me this?” you questioned him. He stood back and smiled proudly at you.

“Because you’re smarter than the rest of them,” Petyr told you. “You’re better than the rest of them. I have plans for you, but for now just do as I say.” Petyr left the room, leaving you to your thoughts.

You never thought yourself better than anyone you worked with. You never wanted to be one of ‘those’ girls. Ones who thrived living in riches and bringing others down. You always made sure to do your job regardless how you were feeling. Petyr saw something else in you, but not in Vanessa. 

You glanced at your phone, hoping for some message or something. The screen flashed to no notifications. You shouldn’t be surprised. He was off hunting Greyjoys. A text from you couldn’t hurt.

[You]: _I’m settled in Vegas. Petyr already set me up with a new client. A guy named Andrew Dustin. He’s supposed to have documents on Joffery’s impeachment. Thought you should know._

You pressed send, but it didn’t help the pang in your stomach. Telling Petyr about Roose’s plans wasn’t easy. Petyr had plans for you. He was going to take care of you. You were fine. You didn’t reveal anything that he wouldn’t find out from someone else.

That night, you strolled through the Luxor, watching tourists and gamblers lose their money. Petyr instructed you to meet with Mr. Dustin in the hotel part of the pyramid. You admitted the Luxor was beautiful, but it was clear that the pyramid was tourist trap. You couldn’t see the difference between here and the Vale or any other casino.

You wore a deep purple outfit. The neckline cut deep. When you stepped into the elevator a man eyed you. His mouth slightly open. Unfortunately for him, his wife caught him. She hit him in the arm, scoffed at you, and they left the elevator immediately. 

14th floor dinged and you walked down the narrow hallways until you hit Room 1409. Petyr left you with the second key to the room. You let yourself in and sighed to find no one there yet. You could remember Lysa’s words from earlier today: _‘They will not do any of their business here. I will not have that in my hotel, Petyr. That filth!’_

You’ve been called worse. 

The room was standard for someone who claimed to be a big deal especially for someone who could lead to Joffery’s fall from grace. You didn’t like him as much as anyone else, but what he did not affect you. He was a mayor, not a president.

You sat on the bed and looked at your phone. 11:48PM. He was late. 

You groaned and laid back on the bed. Why were men always late? You dolled yourself up and made it here on perfect time. You wondered if Olyvar had to deal with the same thing.

The door clicked open, and you heard someone walk through.

“Oh finally,” you greeted. “I thought you would have me waiting all night.” You stopped and smelled the air. You smelled this cologne before. It was heavy with a hint of old rose petals. The heavy footsteps came closer. A round figure appeared. 

Three other men followed him. Each of them armed with ropes, guns, and duct tape. They smiled like hungry hyenas down at you. The door locked behind them. 

“Hello, Y/N,” Mr. Kress greeted. “Sorry to have you waiting.”


	15. Save Her

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ALRIGHT  
> HAPPY HALLOWEEN YOU PRECIOUS BABIES
> 
> I wrote this chapter so fast, guys. Ugh, I'm so happy with it. And with the publishing with this chapter, we got 10 more chapters of Bang Bang! to go! I gotta say, it's been so much fun so far writing this. Tumblr followers love this. I've gotten plenty of great feedback from here on this, and it got me thinking. That's all I will say right now.
> 
> Music: Hellfire - Hunchback of Notre Dame (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NG7kfW4gWKc)  
>  Lose Control - Steve Hill and Organ Donors (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YJcBoeELWdI)

_The door clicked open, and you heard someone walk through._

_“Oh finally,” you greeted. “I thought you would have me waiting all night.” You stopped and smelled the air. You smelled this cologne before. It was heavy with a hint of old rose petals. The heavy footsteps came closer. A round figure appeared._

_Three other men followed him. Each of them armed with ropes, guns, and duct tape. They smiled like hungry hyenas down at you. The door locked behind them._

_“Hello, Y/N,” Mr. Kress greeted. “Sorry to have you waiting.”_

Your breathing stopped. Mr. Kress looked almost the same. His belly still sagged. His glasses fit perfectly on his nose. His wheezing breathing matched the crazed look in his eyes. The men behind him had jackets that had holes and patches. Then you noticed the same patch on all three jackets.

Brooklyn Bridge. These were the Frey Brothers. 

They moved forward with their ropes. You went to reach for my phone, but then you heard a gun click. One of them already had a gun pointed to your head. You stopped moving. The other two started to tie you to the bed.

“Oh, I’ve been waiting for this,” Mr. Kress chuckled. The Frey Brothers tied the ropes tight on your wrists and my ankles. The rope was itchy and uncomfortable. They didn’t leave you much room to move.

One of them came close to your face and started to laugh. “Where’s your flayboy now? Huh?” He laughed in your face. His breath smelled of cheese, meat, and liquor. He coughed and saliva projected onto your face. He wiped his nose of the snot that was dripping down his lip.

“Mr. Kress,” a Frey Brother patted your tormenter’s shoulder. “If you need us, we’ll be outside.” Mr. Kress turned to them as they were leaving.

“Don’t let anyone in. That was the deal,” he shut the door behind them. The final click made you flinch. You were alone with him. You couldn’t reach my phone. Your fingers couldn’t reach the extra ten inches you needed. Petyr was nowhere near. Ramsay had been unreachable for days. 

Mr. Kress circled the bed like a boar in the woods. His belly swung. His snout sucked air in and out. Except for his eyes, they were wide as ever. They studied every part of your body as you struggled on the bed. The ropes weren’t giving way, but you still had to try. You had to do something.

“Mr. Kress—

“Ah, so you do remember me huh?” he antagonized you. “Did you miss me?”

“Please let me go. We can talk about this,” you pleaded with him. 

“Talk? Now you want to talk. Now when it’s inconvenient for you, you want to talk. What about the times I wanted to talk? What about the times I wanted it to just be you and me and a nice dinner? What about the time when you had me thrown out?”

“I didn’t have you thrown out!” you argued. “Ramsay did!” Mr. Kress backhanded you across the face. The sting on your cheeks burned.

“Don’t you dare say his name in front of me!” he yelled at you. “Everything was perfect before he came in and ruined everything!”

“Matthew calm down!” you yelled back. “You have to calm down!” Matthew Kress put his hands on your arms and shook you.

“It was supposed to be you and me! Don’t you understand? Don’t you see?” he started. His hands gripped you tighter. “That blood-raged bastard took you from me. He wasn’t supposed to be with you!” You may have been tied up, but your narrowed your eyes at Mr. Kress.

“You know what I am. I’m an escort, Matthew. I see different clients,” you explained. “This was in the contract. You agreed to those terms. We are not exclusive; we were never exclusive.”

“No!” he responded. Part of his hair fell in front of his face. “That’s not true. You remember the day the Red Kings came? I bet you do. The Frey Brothers do too. Ramsay killed some of them that day. He arrived late, remember that?”

“Yes, what does that have to do with anything?” you asked. Mr. Kress smiled as if he knew something you didn’t.

“Petyr knows about Ramsay. He knows about every girl he’s been with. How he hurts them. Petyr picked out a special girl for Ramsay. He had her ready and everything. You were never meant for him. Your friend Ros was.” You remembered back to that particular rainy day.

_“Ramsay,” Roose said behind you. You turned to see Petyr keeping a straight face, but his hands told a different story._

_“Hello father,” Ramsay smiled. “Am I late to the party?”_

_“Yes, but we are just getting started,” Petyr smiled and side-eyed Ros. “Why don’t you join us?”_

You blinked. How did you miss that? All this time, but one detail stuck out to you. “If that’s true, then why did Petyr choose me to clean up Ramsay and not Ros? What’s your answer to that asshole?” 

Mr. Kress put more weight on you and the bed. His face inching closer. You could smell the Jack Daniels on him. 

“Because Petyr had plans for you, Y/N,” Mr. Kress told you. “If he knew that Ramsay was gonna hurt one of his girls, then he’s going to get rid of the ones he doesn’t need.” You felt anger bubble up inside of you. 

“You don’t get to talk about Ros like that,” you said in an almost whisper. Your upper lip raised in a disgusted fashion. “Petyr protects all of his favorites.”

“Where is he now?” Mr. Kress raised his arms and looked around. “Where is your protector now? Clearly, he’s not the man you think he is neither is that insane son of a bitch.”

“I bet he’s on his way now,” you smiled. “Ramsay will be here, and he’s going to fuck you up.” 

“Shut up.”

“Ramsay’s going to find out what’s happening here—

“Shut up!”

“And he’s going to hurt you—

“Shut up!”

“And gut you out like the true pig you are!” you laughed in his face until you saw the barrel of the gun in your left eye. It looked black and empty, but the threat was still there inside of it. Matthew Kress’s hand shook as he pointed it at you.

“Why don’t you understand?” he sobbed out. “Ramsay is only going to hurt you.”

“He wouldn’t hurt me,” you immediately responded. “And neither will you. You’re not going to shoot that gun. You’re only an unhappily married man with a six figure career that is unfulfilling and depressing. I bet that’s the first gun you’ve ever held. You’re not going to actuall—

You heard the bang. Pain shot from your leg to the rest of your body. You looked at it to see the gunshot wound in your thigh. You screamed in pain. The blood oozed out of it. 

“Look at what you made me do!” Matthew Kress screamed. “I left my wife for you!” He put his hand on the wound squeezing it, making the pain intensify. You screamed again, but this time he stuffed a towel in your mouth, muffling the noise. 

The white towel drenched with your saliva, making it hard to breathe. You shouldn’t have talked back to him. You watched him panic as he put more towels over your thigh, putting pressure on it. 

“It was supposed to be you and me, Y/N,” he started. “I’ve been so unhappy for so long, and then I met you. You were beautiful. You smelled wonderful. At first, I thought I shouldn’t be doing this. Escorts are sex workers. I thought of myself as one of the lowest men in the world, but I couldn’t trade that for how you made me feel. 

“Every time I was with you, I wanted to take you away. I wanted to pretend that I was happy for a couple of hours. I didn’t intend falling in love with you. I would get you anything you wanted. Take you anywhere you wanted if that meant I got to feel you afterwards.

“Every time I went back home I felt empty. Every time I go to work, I feel empty. The only time I feel something is when I’m inside you. You make me feel so powerful. You make me feel like I mean something.

“Petyr told me I couldn’t have you. That he needed you. But, I have to have you. Don’t you see? You belong with me. I could provide for you. I could give you a good life. A stable life. You don’t have to sleep with other men anymore. You don’t have to be endangered. That Bolton boy will bother you no longer. 

“You can give this all up and live comfortably with me. Just say you love me. Say you want me.” 

The words lingered in the air. You should have stopped him long before this could have happened. You should have said something to Petyr. Matthew Kress sat on the edge of the bed, staring at you desperately like a man who needed a drink of water. He removed the towel from your mouth. You could still feel the pressure from your thigh.

Tears came from your eyes and they dribbled down your cheeks from pain. You took in a breath and exhaled. You had to keep calm. You had to stand your ground. 

“I don’t love you, Matthew,” you flatly said. You watched him grip the pistol tighter. “I’ve never loved you. You paid me to have dinner with you. You paid me to make you feel that way. You paid me to fuck you. That’s how it goes. I don’t want you.”

Mr. Matthew Kress wasn’t a strong man. You watched him collapse in on himself, sobbing. Tears reddened his eyes. Snot had dribbled down from his nose and into his mouth. 

“It’s him, isn’t it?” he whispered. “That’s why. It’s him you love.” 

“I don’t love him, Matthew,” you told him. It felt like lying somehow. After all this time you spent with Ramsay. The secret kisses, the client dates, the weekend in Chicago. All of it meant something. Matthew pointed the pistol at your head again. The barrel touched your temple. “Matthew, please.”

“No, I won’t listen to you anymore,” he shook his head. His glasses fell askew on his nose. “I have to do this. I can’t get you out of my head.”

“Matthew, stop,” you started to plead. “Y-you don’t have to this. This isn’t you.” He pressed the pistol harder against you. His breathing was even. You heard the pistol click. He was going to do it. You thought you heard him mutter ‘God, have mercy on me.’

You reached for your phone again, trying to extend your fingers past the bed. Nothing. You were bound tightly. Your eyes went to Matthew’s.

“Matthew, please!” You felt sweat on your forehead. Your heart beat faster each second. He was going to do it. Pleading wasn’t going to work anymore. “Somebody please help me! He’s going to kill me!”

The Frey Brothers should’ve heard that. Surely, murdering you wasn’t part of the deal. It couldn’t have been. Mr. Matthew Kress was a bank accountant. He wasn’t a murderer.

“Someone please help! Help me!” you screamed. You felt a release between your legs. It was warm and, and it spread all over your underwear and the bed. The yellow stench rose to your nose. You felt a hand around your neck, squeezing you. His fingers digging into the sides, restricting oxygen from your lungs. His finger was on the trigger.

“If I can’t have you, no one can,” he said, overpowering you. 

You closed your eyes. This was it. No one was coming. That is, until you heard a familiar laughter. It chuckled darkly filling the room with dread. It excited you. You slowly opened your eyes. 

“Is that so?” you heard Ramsay say. His white shirt ruined by the blood stains that covered it. You lifted your head slightly to see two Frey Brothers lay dead in the hotel hallway. Their chests covered in stab wounds. One of them had a slash over his face. You almost couldn’t recognize him anymore.

Ramsay stepped into the light more. You could see no bullet wounds on him, but cuts decorated him. One long one on his shoulder. His icy blue eyes scanned your body. He saw your red, puffy eyes and how you were struggling to breathe. He saw how tightly you were bound to the bed. The ropes creating indents and cuts into your wrists and ankles. 

He saw your bleeding wound from your thigh, and how it bled through the white towels. Most importantly, he saw Matthew Kress holding a pistol against your skull. 

You watched Ramsay smile fade quickly into the worst scowl you have ever seen. His brows turned downward and his nostrils flared. It was like he was breathing Hell through his nose, but the fire never went to his eyes. They were dead set on you.

“Ramsay,” you managed to squeak out. Your fingers reaching towards him. For a moment, you thought you saw heartbreak in Ramsay’s eyes. 

“It is true! You do love him!” Mr. Kress shouted. He turned to Ramsay, giggling to himself. “It’s ironic isn’t it? You took her away from me, and now I get to take her away from you. Forever.” 

The finger started to pull the trigger and you heard a bang, but the bullet missed you. Ramsay jumped on Mr. Kress, stabbing him. At first it was three different stab wounds in the chest, and then he slashed his face. Mr. Kress cried out in pain. His newly cut skin spread wide bleeding out onto the hotel floor. 

Ramsay took his finger and dug it into a stab wound in his chest. Mr. Kress screamed out loud in pain.

“I want to hear you squeal,” his voice grew dark. You watched his blue eyes turn into something sinister. “I want to hear you squeal like the pig you are.” Mr. Kress sobbed. 

“Louder, you fat fuck!” Ramsay dug his two fingers deeper into the wound. You watched more blood pour out from it, spilling onto his shirt and then the floor.

“You’re going to get caught, Ramsay,” you told him, eyebrows knitted. Without looking, Ramsay took Mr. Kress’s pistol and stood up.

“I don’t care if I get caught,” he pointed the gun at Mr. Kress’ face. “No one touches you.” Ramsay unloaded the pistol into Mr. Kress. Two in his face, and the other three in his chest. There was no more life left in the man. His left eye and cheek were gone. If anyone could identify him, it would’ve been a miracle. 

You felt the ropes being untied and suddenly you felt your breathing grow uneven. Ramsay grabbed his radio.

“I got her,” he said into it. “I’m leaving through the south exit. Kill the cameras.” Ramsay picked you up and carried you out of the room. You took one last glance at Mr. Kress’ corpse. It smelled of shit and piss. You looked at the two bodies in the hallway again. Their guns were far from their bodies. You didn’t want to know what happened to the third Frey brother.

You were going to get caught. There was no way someone didn’t hear that. Someone was going to find you. You felt like you were gasping for air.

“Y/N, calm down,” Ramsay told you as he opened the emergency exit door. “It’s okay. I got you. I got you.” You couldn’t control it. How could you? Your lungs couldn’t get the air they needed. Your eyes shifted around you. 

“We’re gonna get caught, Ramsay. Oh god. Oh god. Oh god,” Panic was not the word you were looking for. Fear had taken over you, but this felt worse. Ramsay tried to shush you.

“Y/N, can you walk? I need you to tell me if you can walk,” he asked you, but you were far from him. You could hear security come running down the hallway. You could see Ramsay getting arrested and being taken away from you. And what if Petyr found out?

The possibilities were endless. Every second you tried to breathe was another second you lost connection to what was happening around you. You watched the stairs grow into an endless image, repeating itself over and over.

“Y/N! I need you to stay with me, ok?” Ramsay told you. “We’re almost to the van. Stay with me.”

Black spots appeared in the corners of your vision. Control was the last thing you had on your mind. You felt your body being moved and touched.

“Lay her down. Right there. She’s been shot,” you heard the bastard’s boys say. It was too dark. You felt a hand hold up your neck. Your eyes slowly opened to see Ramsay looking down at you. You couldn’t hear what he was saying, but he was yelling. His right hand pointing as if giving directions. Your head was in his lap.

“Y/N,” your vision was betraying you. The darkness was growing. “Y/N stay with me. Fuck. Come on, stay with me. I need you to stay awake.”

“Ramsay,” you called out his name again. Your hands searching for his. His right hand grabbed your hand. You looked up to see him. His blue eyes shifted left to right, up and down. They didn’t stay still for a second.

“There’s a red light up ahead!” you heard Ben shout. You tried to get his attention.

“Ramsay—

“Then fucking run the red light! I don’t give a fuck about traffic laws!” He shouted back.

“Ramsay—

“There’s two fucking cops on the corner!” Ben was going as fast as he could, but you could feel the darkness grabbing at you. You looked to Ramsay arguing with Ben. How did he find you? How did he know? He told you before that he had ways of tracking people. Had he been tracking you this entire time? 

Did the details matter? He saved you. If you were going to tell him, it had to be now. 

“Ramsay,” your hand pulled at his bloodied shirt. Ramsay looked down at you while Ben ran the red light. The two cops pulled out from the corner and began pursuit. 

“Y/N, shush. It’s going to be okay.”

“I have to tell you something.” Ramsay pushed your hair out of your face. “Mr. Kress was right.” You felt your breathing slow.

“Right about what?” he nudged you. “Stay with me, now. What was he right about?” Ramsay’s hands shook as he tried to nudge you to stay awake. You looked up at Ramsay one last time. His hair was wildly out of place. His blue eyes stared down at yours. 

“I think I love you,” the darkness took over. It grabbed you and dragged you away from the world.


	16. Sex and Other Things that Happen in Vegas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, how's everyone doing? I know that cliffhanger was a tough one, but luckily for you you have a new chapter! YAY!
> 
> These past couple of chapters were sooo much fun to write. i really enjoyed it, and I'm glad you guys are enjoying it as well :) Unrelated to Ramsay, but I'm going to see Thor: Ragnarok tonight. +So. PUMPED. (I may get new ideas. ohohohoho) Another note that is related to Ramsay and this fic, I'm gonna see if I can publish the rest of the chapters before the year is over. Meaning that, yes, Bang Bang! will end hopefully by the end of December.
> 
> If you have any comments, questions, or concerns please let me know!

_“I have to tell you something.” Ramsay pushed your hair out of your face. “Mr. Kress was right.” You felt your breathing slow._

_“Right about what?” he nudged you. “Stay with me, now. What was he right about?” Ramsay’s hands shook as he tried to nudge you to stay awake. You looked up at Ramsay one last time. His hair was wildly out of place. His eyes stared down at yours._

_“I think I love you,” the darkness took over. It grabbed you and dragged you away from the world._

A lot of things could be said about death. Some say that there is a light at the end of tunnel. Other said they felt the fires of Hell. Sometimes there’s nothing. This was not how you felt. You heard conversations. Your consciousness went in and out. You swore you heard Charlotte crying in a corner. 

Your eyes opened back to your room in the Vale. Several bouquets surrounded your bed. Some were from clients. Others were from your friends. Reds, pinks, blues, and greens were a welcome sight. Your eyes panned to the left to see Petyr discussing something with someone who looked to be a nurse.

“Ah Y/N, you’re awake,” Petyr left the nurse, mid-conversation. His hands found your head. He kissed the top of your head and sat down at the edge of bed. “How are you feeling?”

“I don’t know,” you responded. “Water would be nice.” Petyr snapped his fingers, and a butler showed up immediately with a pitcher and glasses. He started to serve you. You took a sip from the ice, cold glass.

“A lot has happened,” Petyr explained. His frown was firm, but fatherly. “We need to talk about it before we move forward, is that alright?” You nodded your head. Petyr gave you a half-smile, and then he turned his head to the butler. The butler left the room and closed the door behind him quietly, giving you and Petyr privacy.

“Firstly, you’re going to lose your leg.”

“What?!” you exclaimed. You panicked and moved the blankets around to check your leg. It was still there. It had been bandaged and wrapped. Petyr began to laugh.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he chuckled, his hand going to his knee and then to your hand. “I wanted to start this out with something funny. I figured you would need it.” You smiled at Petyr. Even though it was a cruel joke, he had good intentions.

“You’re forgiven,” you told him.  
“That’s my girl,” Petyr smiled again. He frowned and sniffed his nose. “I don’t want you to worry about what happened that night. In fact, I’d like to apologize for everything. I had left the wrong person in charge of background security. I didn’t know Matthew Kress would be so determined to get to you like that.

“The police had discovered three bodies. They figured out the first two as Frey Brothers, and they couldn’t identify the third as Mr. Kress. His estranged ex-wife hasn’t seen him nor does she care, luckily.”

“Am I in trouble?” you squeaked out. Your voice was hoarse and weak. Petyr took your hands and caressed them.

“No, no, no,” he shook his head. “None of this is your fault. You’re not in trouble at all, my dear. I have failed you, and I don’t intend on doing that again which is why there are going to be some major changes.”

“Like what?” you asked before taking another sip of water.

“You are going to heal first. Rest and take it easy. I’ve been working a lot of you girls too hard,” Petyr looked down and sighed. “I am ashamed of myself. When I saw you, I nearly fell. I have never seen you look so lifeless.”

“Was I dead?” 

“No, you never died, but I spoke with one of our discreet doctors. You suffered a major mental break. I blame myself.” Petyr sat down at the edge of the bed again. “I promised you that I would protect you which is why it is hard for me to tell you this next part.” You sat up in your bed, mustering all the strength you could.

“What’s wrong?” one name came to your mind. It repeated itself over and over. 

Ramsay. Ramsay. Ramsay. Ramsay. Ramsay. Ramsay. Ramsay. Ramsay. Ramsay. Ramsay. Ramsay. Ramsay. Ramsay. Ramsay. Ramsay. Ramsay. Ramsay. Ramsay. Ramsay. Ramsay.

Petyr presented your phone to you. “I heard you mumbling the night you came in.”

Ramsay. Ramsay. Ramsay. Ramsay. Ramsay. Ramsay. Ramsay. Ramsay. Ramsay. Ramsay.

Petyr shifted around, not looking in your eyes. “You were saying his name over and over again. So, I did some digging, and I looked at your phone. I saw everything. Every conversation you had with him. Every text. Every picture. You know the rules, Y/N.”

You looked down and away from Petyr. 

“He’s bad for you, Y/N, which is why I have taken out a restraining order for you against Ramsay Bolton,” Petyr told you. Your eyes shot wide and you turned to Petyr.  
“What? No. No, you didn’t.”

“I spoke with Roose and his lawyers this morning. They agree it is best that keeping you away from Ramsay would be what is best for you and your safety,” Petyr explained. “Ramsay is no longer allowed to see you as a client nor is he to contact you ever again.”

“No, that’s not—you can’t,” tears started to well up in your eyes. “Petyr, I swear I don’t have any feelings for him. It’s all just an act! A silly act!”

“You were almost murdered!” Petyr yelled at you. You could taste your own salty tears on your lips. Petyr sighed again. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for yelling like that. I promised to protect you and the other girls. This is what I have to do. These are my rules, Y/N. You’ve been so good. You’re young, and I should have seen this coming.”

You felt empty. You felt numb. Petyr let go of you and started to leave.

“Things may be bad now, but I promise you, Y/N, you are going to be so much happier without him.” Those words haunted you. For several nights, you found it hard to sleep. Not only because Ramsay was removed from your life, but you couldn’t stop seeing them. The dead bodies. The Frey Brothers. Matthew Kress. Their corpses were always in the corners of your sight.

Charlotte, Ros, and even Olyvar visited you quite often. They kept you company. They would bring you gifts, conversation, and sometimes wine to calm your nerves. Sometimes it helped, and you laughed along with them. Other times you felt yourself float away from them all, and you watched yourself across the room. Just a body, pretending to pay attention.

Ros and Charlotte would occasionally drop a word or two about the Red Kings. It seemed Ramsay got away with it, or at least that is what you assumed. Petyr explained to your old clients that you were taking a break from everything, using the excuse of your gunshot wound and mental breakdown as a defense.

Some of your clients left you, saying that Ramsay Bolton had ruined your lively mind. Others simply left because you were depressed. And who would want to fuck a depressed girl?

It had been weeks until Ros had convinced you to come with her to Vegas party. You’re not sure how she did it, but it was time. It was time to move forward. 

The mansion was decorated in nothing but gold. Golden curtains. Golden floors. Golden glasses. Golden dresses. The Lannisters were a one-note color scheme family, but they had the money to do it. Ros and you entered the party in purple dresses.

“See? Didn’t I tell you this would be fun?” Ros rubbed your back. 

“We just got here,” you noted. Ros shot you a pleading look. “I’m sorry. No, you’re right. I need to give this a chance. Why don’t you grab us drinks? I want to walk around and get a lay of the land.” Ros smiled.   
“You got it. I’m getting us champagne. They got the best here. Don’t go too far,” Ros strutted towards the bar, making her way up to the front by charming the men in line. You rolled your eyes, but you noticed someone familiar out of the corner of your eye.

“Brad?” you called out to the mousy brown haired fellow. He turned around and smirked.

“Y/N?” he wore a well-tailored suit. His hair was slicked back, and his face was clean shaven. He held his drink in a tight grip, careful not to spill it. “How the hell are you, sweetheart?” His smile stretched for days.

“You remembered my name,” you felt somewhat honored.

“I did, and you remembered mine,” Brad continued to smile down at you. The closer he got, the more you could smell his over-use of cologne. “I always wondered what happened to you. I couldn’t stop thinking about you for a couple of days. Where’s your boyfriend at? Is he late again?”

Without thinking about it, an answer rolled off your tongue. “We broke up.”

“You broke up? Oh, well then. This is an interesting night,” he reacted. “Can I get you a drink?”

“My friend, Ros, is taking care of that, thank you,” you pointed out the redhead making her way towards the both of you. Two men were following her, laughing along to whatever joke she told. Ros handed you a glass of champagne, and winked at you.

“Hello there,” Ros winked at Brad. “Who’s this handsome gentleman?” 

“Brad. Bradley Swyft,” he answered. “And you are?”

“A Lannister man?” Ros bit down on her lip. “I’m Ros. My last name isn’t important like yours, but does that really matter?” Brad looked to you. 

“I suppose not,” taking a sip of his drink. “Although, I would be very much interested into hearing more about you, Y/N. I did miss you after you left me last time.”

“Last time?” Ros looked to you. 

“We’ve met before while I was with my boyfriend,” you put an emphasis on the word ‘boyfriend’, hoping Ros would take the hint. Ros hummed.

“Right,” Ros nodded. 

“So how much, sweetheart?” one of Ros’ new male friends asked boldly.

“I’m sorry?” Brad laughed. 

“How much for tonight? Just you and me?” he asked her again. Ros took out her phone and showed him the screen. “That much?”

“I’m very talented. I am a bird after all,” she touched his chest. 

“A bird?” Brad asked. He cocked his eyebrow. 

“Why don’t you and I go somewhere private?” you asked Brad. 

“Is it possible if I could talk to Petyr? Maybe he’ll give me a discount?” the Lannister man laughed. Brad almost spat out his drink.

“Petyr? As in Petyr Baelish?” he turned to you, and you dragged him away from Ros and her new clients. You reached outside where the air was cool and refreshing. “Y/N, what is going on?” 

“There’s something you don’t know about me,” you confessed. “Something that doesn’t typically come up in normal conversation.”

“What do you mean? Do you know Petyr Baelish?” Brad asked. His eyebrow cocked. 

“Yes, he’s my boss,” you sighed. “I’m one of his pretty birds.” Brad’s mouth opened in shock and then closed immediately. 

“You’re a prostitu—

“Don’t say that word. I’m an escort, yes,” you corrected him. 

“You’ve been an escort this whole time?” Brad asked you. You nodded. “And the boyfriend?”

“He was never my boyfriend,” it still hurt saying that out loud. “He was just a client.” Brad ran a hand through his hair.

“Wow. I’m learning all sorts of new things about you, huh?” He scratched the back of his neck. You watched him pull out a single cigarette and light it in his mouth. The smoke wafted up into the air, but not before he blew cigarette smoke in your direction. “How much?”

“What”

“How much for a night with you?” he asked again. 

“I’m very expensive,” you warned.

“Sweetheart, I work for Lannisters,” Brad blew out another puff of smoke. “Try me.”

“Just for tonight, it’s eight thousand,” you smiled. You knew exactly what you were worth out here. Lannister or not, you were expensive. After a call to Petyr and special instructions to go to your room in the Vale, Brad stepped into your room carefully. As Petyr told you over the phone, ‘the less Lysa knows, the better’. You two had picked up a couple bottles of wine. Brad had opened and poured the first bottle, a red wine that had hints of sweet fruit. 

You slipped off your dress in another room, and slipped on a lacy robe that had a small train behind you. You had bought it to show to Ramsay, but Brad would have to do. His tie and shirt were undone showing his slightly hairy chest. He sat at the edge of the bed, sipping at the wine and smoking another cigarette.

He turned his head to see you, and you watched his mouth salivate at the sight of you. He put out the cigarette and let go of his drink. He slowly approached you, taking every part of you in. His hands ran down your sides. They stopped at your hips which brought you closer to him. 

You, in turn, ran your hands on his chest and up and around his neck. Your right hand petted his hair, soothing him. His lips missed your mouth and went towards your neck. His lips kissed and sucked at your skin. You hummed in response. His hand rose to your neck and into your hair. 

He sucked your neck deeper and it earned another hum from you. “Fuck, Y/N, you smell so good.” You could practically hear his blood pump faster.

He pushed your back onto the bed and you giggled. You watched his eyes turn into stars at the awe of you. Your robe was open so he could see your black lingerie decorate you like you were the best gift in the world. His hands ran down the sides of his face.

“You are so beautiful, fuck,” Brad moaned. He crawled on top of you and moved your bra so he could start sucking on your chest. This wasn’t Ramsay, but it wasn’t Mr. Kress either. It felt good. It felt safe. Brad slipped his hand into your panties and slipped one finger inside of you. It went in and out so gently and he worked his way up to two fingers inside you.

Your fingers ran through his hair, enjoying each moment he was all over your body. His hands were strong, but when they touched you they became gentle. You wanted more. You pushed him up to a seated position. You climbed on top of him and aligned his member with your vagina. You slowly made your way on top of him which earned you a deep groan from Brad.

His hands grabbed your sides and he helped you moved up and down his dick, going faster and faster. Each time you lowered yourself onto him, you felt yourself get wetter. Brad looked in your eyes and smiled.

“You’re so bad,” he told you. “You’re such a bad girl.” His hand wrapped itself around your neck. He squeezed the side opening a hunger inside you. Your hips rocked on top of him harder as he held you in the chokehold. You found it harder and harder to breathe, but it felt exhilarating.

You kept rocking yourself against him. He groaned louder, and then put you on your back. He couldn’t take it anymore. Brad pounded you. Each thrust was harder than the next. His grip on your neck grew tighter. You could feel yourself build up a tension inside of you. 

“Want me to fuck you harder?” he suddenly said. 

“Yes,” you shouted, almost laughing. Brad happily obliged by positioning himself over you. Your legs spread wide open for him. He put himself inside you, but he also placed his thumb right over your clit, rubbing it. It increased the tension inside of you. 

Every thrust sent you both into pleasure until you couldn’t take it anymore. You felt yourself unwind onto him. He felt your waves and pulled out. His cum unloaded onto your stomach and chest. Brad towered over you, breathless.

“I’ll grab you a towel, sweetheart,” Brad laughed, looking at his handywork. He left you on the bed by yourself. You checked your phone to see a text from Ros and Petyr.

Ros: [That brad guy is cuuute. You gotta tell me how he is in bed! ;) ]

Petyr: [Good to see you with new clients.]

New clients. It felt weird. Mr. Kress was dead. Ramsay was banned. All other New York clients have abandoned you. You had to start somewhere, and Brad wasn’t too bad of a start. It felt good. He felt good. 

You looked at your phone again. Nothing from Ramsay. You half-expected something from him as if he knew what you were doing tonight. You had to get over him. You couldn’t be in love. Not with anyone. You weren’t going to let that happen ever again.


	17. It's Not That Simple

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This update was delayed because I really don't like this chapter. It's my least favorite. I really don't think it's my best, but I wanted to get this chapter out anyways. 
> 
> Music: Froot - Marina and the Diamonds (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WZzcY7ASQno)

_New clients. It felt weird. Mr. Kress was dead. Ramsay was banned. All other New York clients have abandoned you. You had to start somewhere, and Brad wasn’t too bad of a start. It felt good. He felt good._

_You looked at your phone again. Nothing from Ramsay. You half-expected something from him as if he knew what you were doing tonight. You had to get over him. You couldn’t be in love. Not with anyone. You weren’t going to let that happen ever again._

The ceiling was a beautiful sight to behold. The colors weaved in and out of each other, moving constantly as if the sun was setting above you. Your body kept moving back and forth, but your eyes remained on the ceiling. Each tile was specifically placed to create the pattern, and all you could do is look in awe.

Your body moved faster and your attention snapped to the man on top of you. One of your new clients: Jose Perez. He was a big roller in Vegas, and with no wife and barely any family, he did what he pleased. Right now, he was doing you. Although, it seemed he only knew the missionary position.

It didn’t matter much. You had been with his type before. Men who should have experience, but only wanted to get off. He rocked the bed a couple more times until he pulled out and released his seed on top of you. Proud of his work, he smiled down at you. 

After he paid you, you smiled politely and left. As you were about to enter the car, your phone buzzed.

Petyr: [Your session with Mr. Hansen is cancelled. He was murdered last night. I will look into the situation. Let me know if you see anything weird.]

Mr. Hansen was the 3rd victim. Two of your clients have also ‘passed away’ since the restraining order against Ramsay. You tried to think nothing of it, but it was hard to not think of him.

It couldn’t be him. Ramsay wouldn’t do this. You looked at your phone again, analyzing Petyr’s texts. He had erased everything related to Ramsay on your phone. Texts, pictures, all gone. 

You entered into one of Petyr’s cars and took a couple gulps of red wine to get rid of the headache you just experienced and the memories you wanted to forget. You lit up a blunt to get the edge off, and let the smoke waft into the cabin of the car.

You felt the marijuana take effect as the chauffeur dropped you off at your next client, Brad. He never met you in his own apartment. He usually reserved the same room in the same Vegas hotel. You didn’t mind. It was routine, and routine felt nice.  
Room 409 had all of the amenities. A bottle of champagne on ice was ready for you. You took a glass and started drinking. Wine, champagne, anything you could get your hands on meant a good time for you. You kicked your shoes off and enjoyed the time alone before Brad came in.

“Hey, you started without me,” he greeted.

“I got here early,” you explained. “Previous guy wasn’t any fun. He only knew one position.”

“Oh, well. I can fix that,” Brad winked at you as he took off his suit jacket. Your high grew deeper as Brad climbed on top of you. Everything felt sensitive. Everything Brad touched amplified because of the body high. He caressed you, he touched you, it felt like he loved you, but you knew better than that.

After you both were spent, you rolled off to the side and looked out the window. The late afternoon sun was bound to be annoying cab drivers and people driving home from work. It was too bright and oddly placed. You rolled to the other side, hoping to find comfort. You heard Brad sigh in frustration.

“What’s wrong?” you asked.

“My date cancelled on me,” he confessed. “I was invited to go to Joffery and Margaery’s wedding tomorrow. I was going to take a friend of mine, but she just texted me that she has food poisoning.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you apologized. “I didn’t realize you dated.” Brad chuckled.

“Oh, I do.”

“Then why are you messing around with me?”

“I said I dated. I didn’t say I dated well,” Brad moved across the room and squinted at the sun just as you had. “Would you like to go?”

“Me? To a wedding? Do you remember what I do?”

“I’m not anyone important. No one’s going to pay attention to who I bring to a wedding. Just come with me. It’s a Lannister wedding. Think of the booze. All of the free booze.”

Brad was completely right. Open bars were completely dangerous at a wedding. You had been three drinks in with no food. Your alcohol tolerance was higher than it was months ago, you were fine.

The reception was, by far, the most expensive one you’ve been to. You could’ve sworn the tablecloths were designer. Nearly everyone there had a high status or at least a high social media following. Again, you wondered what the fuck you were doing here.

Brad had wrapped his arm around you. Oh, that’s why.

“I’d like to introduce you to someone,” he told you.

“Oh? Who?” you asked Brad. He guided you through the crowd towards two young women. One was wearing a golden dress with matching golden heels. Her red hair cascaded down her back. She was speaking to another young woman in a wedding dress.

“Y/N, this is Sansa Stark and the beautiful bride, Margaery Tyrell,” Brad introduced you. Both of them looked at you up and down. You took a closer look at them. They were extremely close to each other. They could’ve been easily mistaken for a beautiful couple if Joffery weren’t involved. He was the third person in what should’ve been a bicycle.

“Bradley!” Margaery smiled. Her polite smile lit up her entire face. “So glad you could make it. Is this the girl you were speaking of?’

“No, Hailey cancelled on me. This is my other friend from work,” Brad lied through his teeth. 

“Oh, well Y/N it is very nice to meet you,” Margaery held her hand to you like she was a queen, gentle but respectful. You shook it as gently as you could.

“I must say the same for both of you. I’ve only heard wonderful things about you both as business moguls,” you nodded to both of them. Sansa smiled at you.

“Very kind words, thank you,” she said to you. 

“If it’s no trouble, I’d like to get you girls some drinks,” Brad interrupted. “What’s the bride drinking tonight?” Margaery laughed.

“Just some champagne if you don’t mind,” she replied. Her eyes twinkled in the lights above her. Every second you were in Margaery’s presence felt like a blessing.

“I’ll have the same,” you nodded. Brad left the three of you to go to the bar. Margaery touched your arm.

“So how much did he pay for you?” she asked boldly.

“I’m sorry?” you were taken back.

“I know one of Petyr’s birds when I see one,” Margaery said, taking the last sip of her champagne. “You are much too beautiful to be one of the girls that Brad ‘works’ with. So, how much?”

“If I told you, you wouldn’t believe me,” you smirked. Margaery side-eyed Sansa and then back to you.

“Try me.”

“Five thousand,” you told her.

“Five thousand?”

“Just for tonight, without sex,” you clarified.

“Oh,” Margaery smirked. “You’re one of his favorites, aren’t you?”

“Then you must know of certain information right?” Sansa asked you. She came in closer to you, closing in the circle of the three of you. “Information on certain people? Petyr told me his favorites possess espionage skills.”

“Well, I wouldn’t say I’m a spy,” you laughed, but then you thought about what Sansa was saying. You stopped yourself and looked at Sansa. “Would you like to take a walk?”

Margaery was currently busy entertaining people behind the both of you. Sansa nodded and she let you take her arm. Both of you sifted through the crowd. 

“I can tell you everything I know, but you cannot let this information get into the wrong hands, understand?” you told Sansa. She nodded while keeping her eyes on the crowd.

“The Red Kings took Theon Greyjoy. They tortured him. They maimed him. I know because I was there,” you explained.

“What did they do?”

“I don’t think that’s appropriate to say—

“Tell me,” Sansa stopped you. The cold wind outside was soothing, but you could see Sansa’s face heating up from residual anger. “That monster is responsible for my brothers’ murders. He’s responsible for my older brother’s betrayal. What did they do to him?”

“Ramsay Bolton cut off his fingers. He mentally fucked with him. He put him through immense pain, and then he cut it off.”

“Cut what off?” 

You smiled, knowing this would bring Sansa joy. “His penis. Ramsay cut off Theon’s penis and sent it to his family.” Sansa covered her mouth and looked downwards.

“He did that?” she asked in disbelief.

“He did,” you smiled, remembering Ramsay. His icy blue eyes on Theon. His flaying knife on his crotch with a wicked smile. Ramsay took a hold of Theon’s dick and cut it off like he was slicing sausage at a deli. You remembered the screams Theon cried out. You remembered the blood. You remembered how happy you were. 

You finished your drink in front of Sansa. 

“Thank you,” Sansa whispered to you. “Tell Ramsay and the Red Kings I said thank you.”

“I can’t,” you confessed to her. “Petyr took a restraining order against Ramsay. I’m afraid I will never see him again.” You said the words out loud, and you knew it was real. It had been weeks. You haven’t heard anything from Ramsay. You tried to swallow your feelings.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize I was stepping into sensitive territory,” Sansa touched your shoulder. “Whatever happened between you, I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright,” you forgave her. Sansa had a quiet, forgiving beauty to her. Her red hair gently waved in the wind. If she was your client, you would’ve kissed her right then and there. “May I ask you something?”

Sansa still kept a lookout for the both of you. She seemed paranoid of other people. “You may.”

“Weren’t you with Joffery? I mean, weren’t you engaged to him?” 

“I was, but we weren’t good for each other.”

“That’s bullshit. What’s the real story?” 

Sansa sighed. “He was awful. I had a silly childhood crush on him. I didn’t realize how much of a powerful monster he was. I thought I was in love. He thought I was his plaything.”

“He abused you?” you asked her. Sansa nodded. 

“With my father gone, I didn’t know who I could tell. Cersei made me hide it because of the election. Then, I told Petyr and he promised to protect me somehow. It wasn’t until after speaking with Margaery that I felt I could…you know…talk about it.”

“Why not go public? Expose him. End his career.”

“It’s not that simple,” Sansa shook her head. “People won’t believe me. You, of all people, should know that.” You hated the words that came out of her mouth, but you hated it even more that they were true. A silence fell between both of you.

Sansa looked away again. Her eyes scanned the crowd inside the building. “Can you do me a favor? From one woman to another?” you nodded.

“Keep in touch with me about…certain things,” Sansa slipped you a piece of paper. “Don’t tell Petyr.” You weren’t sure why, but you felt a duty to her. “Careful now, Brad’s coming.”

Brad approached both of you with drinks in hand. You hid the paper in your chest and smiled at Brad. He handed you your drink, and Sansa her drink. 

“It seems the bride is a bit busy,” he commented. “Did you both come out here to grab some fresh air?” You both nodded. 

“Y/N was just telling me about her dress. You know, girl things,” Sansa smiled at you. Oh, she was good. 

“Well, I think she looks beautiful in it,” Brad’s hand caressed your back and landed neatly on your ass. You drank the champagne he gave you. It was light and bubbly. “Shall we go back inside? I believe Joffery is about to give a lovely toast.”

You waved goodbye to Sansa as Brad whisked you away from her. You watched Sansa walk away from the building even more rather quickly. The bright light dimmed to shine a singular spotlight on Joffery. He was dressed in a golden suit. His right hand held a glass of whisky.

“Good evening everyone!” he greeted the crowd. A lot of people raised their drinks. You didn’t raise yours. You weren’t about to feel happy for a political monster even if it was his wedding. Joffery started to talk and you downed the rest of the champagne.

“Is something wrong?” Brad asked.

“I know you’re very connected to the Lannisters, but I just—I hate him.”

“He’s not that bad. It’s the media that painted a bad picture of him. He’s always centered on their witch hunts,” Brad explained to you. You rolled your eyes. After the anti-homeless laws, his stance on lgbt marriage in New York, and displeasing remarks on veterans, your respect for him was slim to none.

Joffery kept speaking on how this year was a winning year. His new job, his new bride, and kept going. It felt like more of a bragging fest then a wedding toast. You were about to lose interest until you heard gunshots and Margaery screaming. 

Her shriek reached everyone’s ears, and you saw why. Joffery was bleeding from his chest, and he fell over as security tried to cover him. The reception erupted into chaos as people pushed against each other to get out of the building. 

You looked everywhere, and you saw security take Margaery and her grandmother, Olenna away from the stage. You locked eyes with Petyr. He saw you, but then he started to turn away and going with the grain of the crowd to exit. 

What was Petyr doing here? Why didn’t he tell you that he was here? You started to follow Petyr to where he was going until you felt something in your stomach. You found it hard to stand all of a sudden as if the floor had a plan to make you fall to your knees. A rigid movement went up your spine and you felt as if you could not move.

People screamed and moved around you, desperate to find an exit. You watched the back of Petyr’s head leave into the darkness. You heard Cersei Lannister screaming now.

“No! Not my son! That’s my son! Arrest him! He did it! Take him! TAKE HIM!”


	18. Stop

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a darker chapter with mature themes. Just a warning, guys.

_What was Petyr doing here? Why didn’t he tell you that he was here? You started to follow Petyr to where he was going until you felt something in your stomach. You found it hard to stand all of a sudden as if the floor had a plan to make you fall to your knees. A rigid movement went up your spine and you felt as if you could not move._

_People screamed and moved around you, desperate to find an exit. You watched the back of Petyr’s head leave into the darkness. You heard Cersei Lannister screaming now._

_“No! Not my son! That’s my son! Arrest him! He did it! Take him! TAKE HIM!”_

The next thing you knew, you were all on all fours on the ground. People almost trampled all over you. That’s when you remembered. The private Vegas gambling room. Your best friend and her boyfriend facing guns. You running out of there when you heard the gun shots. Petyr saving you. Petyr helping you. You needed to find Petyr.

You sat on the ground, people still running in all sorts of directions around you. You took your phone in both of your hands and tried to concentrate on your actions Every second it was getting harder. Your eyelids started to get heavy, and the floor was so warm. No, you had to text Petyr. Your fingers moved across the keyboard.

H-E-L-P-SPACE-M-E

You thought you typed. You tried to stand up again, but you found it hard. Why was it so hard? What was going on? It hit you. The drowsiness. The paralysis. The inability to do anything.

You were drugged.

You needed to get out of here. Someone is after you. You thought of Ros, and found her red hair to be nowhere. You crawled over to a table, and forced yourself to get up. Suddenly, two hands wrapped around you and you turned around.

“Brad!” you sighed in relief, tear almost forming at your eyes. “I’m so glad to see you.”

“What are you doing? Let’s get out here!” Brad started to quickly guide you out of the reception. Your eyes became heavier. You tried to stay awake.

“Brad, I’m so scared!” you confessed to him.

“I know, I know,” he reassured you. Your body weight became heavier to the point where you couldn’t walk much. Brad gripped you tighter, both of you moving with the crowd outside. The chilly winds hit you hard.

Everything started to slow down around you, but you knew this wasn’t really happening. Time cannot slow down. You watched people quickly drive away in their cars, fleeing the scene while police were just arriving on the scene with guns and armor on. The blue and red sirens hurt your eyes.

“Brad, get me out of here please,” you pleaded with him. He put you in his car and buckled you in the passenger seat. “Brad, I’m scared. Where’s Ros? Did you see her?”

“We don’t have time for that now,” Brad said. He slammed the gas pedal and you took off onto the Vegas streets. “We need to go.”

“Brad, I’m scared. Can you just get me to a hospital? Please?” your body betrayed you more. It felt as if you drank too much. The exhaustion was taking over without your permission.

“What’s wrong?” he asked you. 

“I know this sounds crazy, but I think-I think I’ve been drugged,’ you confessed to him. You looked over to Brad to see him smiling. His hand reached over and ran up your thigh. He felt hot, too hot.

“I know,” the words sounded awful coming from his mouth. Brad pulled into the hotel parking lot, not the hospital. He turned off the car and kept rubbing your thigh.

“Stop, I don’t like this. I need to go to a hospital,” you told him again, trying to inch your body away from his touch. Brad slapped your thigh and you felt the burning pressure throughout your body.

“I’m not fucking taking you to a hospital,” he responded. You felt your heart beat faster. You hands shook.

“Brad—

“You’re so stupid, you know that?” Brad’s demeanor changed. “Such a silly girl.” He exited the vehicle and came to your side. He opened the door, and with little fighting from you, he carried you into the hotel. He used the back entrance so less people could see you. You tried fighting against him, but it was fruitless.

You thought you saw a hotel employee out of the corner of your eye, and you did your best to struggle against him. It must not have been much because Brad started to laugh at you. Everywhere you looked, things didn’t make sense. The hallways were spinning and felt off. Brad laid you down in the bed and you watched the ceiling designs dance above you. 

“You know, this has been a secret fantasy of mine for quite some time now,” Brad said as he cuffed your wrist to the bed. Oh no. Not again. He ran his hand through his hair, pushing it back. You noticed the crazed look in his eyes. “I know this isn’t polite to say, but you look so perfect right now. Vulnerable, ready to comply. I guess whores are the perfect girls to rape, huh?”

You spat at him as he cuffed your other hand. “I trusted you!” Tears formed at your eyes. Brad unbuckled his pants in front of you, and you couldn’t believe what was happening. He started to climb the bed, and you closed your eyes letting the exhaustion take over you. You looked to the door, hoping he would show up, just like he did last time.

All he had to do was kick in the door and kill Brad. Brad could no longer be trusted. Through all the drinking and fucking you did with him, he was scum now. Petyr ran from you at the reception. He swore to you that he would protect you, and look at where you were. Brad took off your clothes and wet tears came down your face. Brad laughed.

“Yes. Exactly,” he smiled. He was enjoying this. You needed him. You looked to the door again. Ramsay would know. Ramsay would be here. Any second now. Your eyelids closed slowly. Any time now, Ramsay would come in and save you.

Brad’s tongue shoved its way into your mouth. His hands kept your face in line. His cock right above your vagina. He thrusted his way in with no warning. You kept looking out of line to the door. Brad held your face in line with his again.

“What? You think someone’s coming for you?” Brad shook his head and bent down to your ear. Your face covered in tears and snot. “No one’s coming, whore. It’s just you and me.”

You looked to the door one more time. Ramsay wasn’t coming. You couldn’t bare it anymore. You closed your eyes and let the exhaustion continue to take over and as Brad kept smiling and grunting every time he thrust into you.

You felt so tired. You trusted the wrong people. You knocked out on the bed as he kept fucking you over and over until he was done. You came to in the Vale with a slap across your face. It burned. You touched your cheek to feel the reddened skin. Brad grabbed you by the collar of your dress.

“See how nice I am? I’ve brought you home,” his face was inches from yours. “I’m not paying for this by the way. I don’t need to anymore.” He held up a DVD in front of your face.

“Wha—

“This is you. This is your career being ruined. Because why pay to fuck you when anyone can just watched you being fucked from home?” 

“You recorded us?” you asked him. Tears formed around your eyes again.

“If you tell anyone what I did to you, then I’m going to release this on the Internet. You and Petyr will be ruined,” his smile creeped on his face. He looked like as if bugs crawled through his teeth. “I’ll expose you for what you really are: worthless.”   
Brad pushed you into your room and closed the door behind you. You sat on the ground on all fours, surrounded by the darkness in your own room. You felt the shadows were even out to hurt you.

You looked at your shaking hands and just snapped. Your chest heaved in and out, sobbing. You collapsed to the ground crying with everything you had. Your fsts balled up and you began to hit the carpet hard. It wasn’t fair.

Ever since the death of Mr. Kress, everything went to shit. Petyr’s restraining order against Ramsay was meant to protect you, but all you did was smoke, drink, and fuck to forget him. You trusted Brad to help you forget him.

You trusted him. The words hit you hard and you started to scream, letting out all of it. Your body closed in on itself and you formed a ball. Your heaving became shorter with every sob you let out. Everything hurt. You forced yourself to get up and face yourself in the bathroom.

As you turned the light on, you finally saw your face. Your eyes were red, your cheek was still red from where Brad slapped you, and your neck had marks around it. Your wrists had indents from the cuffs. You felt pain from your hips down. You took off your dress to see more bruises on your body. 

Charlotte: [I’m coming over. What do you need?]

The question hung over your head. It wasn’t what you needed. It was who. You needed him. You needed Ramsay.  
You went to touch one bruise on your side, and you winced from the pain. Tears from the pain went down your cheek. Your hair was in knots, and your makeup was smeared.

You sobbed once more and lost control. You covered your face with your hands and covered yourself in warm clothes. You had to cover yourself. If you were exposed, you would be dirty. You were dirty. You were nothing. You were worthless. Brad said it so himself.

It made sense. Since when did Ramsay ever follow the rules? Why hasn’t he contacted you? Why wasn’t he here right now? Why? Weren’t you good enough? Did he move on? Where was he?

You looked to the balcony of your room, and you swung the door open. You let the late night air touch your face. It felt cooling. It felt calming. You had to settle down. You looked down to see the tiny cars and tiny people partying and laughing and being happy.

You fucking hated them all. 

For a moment, you imagined yourself falling towards the ground. Your body would hit it hard and true. Your body could be in pieces, or your blood would reach the cracks of the sidewalk and seeped into the ground.

No.

You had to wash that notion away. You needed to sleep. You looked back inside your room to see your bed untouched and warm. As tempting as it was, your eyes strayed back to the late night Vegas view. 

Your phone lit up with a text notification. 

Charlotte: [Are you okay? Where are you? I just heard about Joffery and the wedding! Let me know you’re okay!]

You had to tell someone what happened. Your fingers slowly typed out. “I’m okay. I’m at the Vale.” The text was sent and less than 30 seconds later, you get another message.

Charlotte: [I’m coming over. What do you need?]

The question hung over your head. It wasn’t what you needed. It was who. You needed him. You needed Ramsay.


	19. Sansa

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone. I know last chapter was a really tough one to read. A follower on tumblr asked me why I did it, and I made a statement about it. If you'd like to read it, be my guest. You don't have to, but I figure it would good for you guys to know I made a statement on it.
> 
> Anyways, I'm really excited to bring you this chapter and I'm really proud of it. I looked at my notes and this was originally two separate chapters, so i decided to combine them into one chapter. This means that the "bonus" chapter is going to be something much different and something i didn't plan for, but I wanted Bang Bang! to be 25 chapters and darnit I'm going to give you 25 chapters.
> 
> As always, please enjoy! If you have any comments, questions, or concerns, please let me know.  
> Music: Anywhere But Home - Breathe Carolina & APEK (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QPf1sUELCak )

_You had to tell someone what happened. Your fingers slowly typed out. “I’m okay. I’m at the Vale.” The text was sent and less than 30 seconds later, you get another message._

_Charlotte: [I’m coming over. What do you need?]_

_The question hung over your head. It wasn’t what you needed. It was who. You needed him. You needed Ramsay._

Charlotte was a goddamn great friend to you. She didn’t ask. She only took action. It seemed like only five minutes and she was there with fast food, hugs, and lots of water. She tucked you into your bed and surrounded you with the fast food. You sipped on the large soda and slowly ate what she gave you. 

You debated on telling her everything. You wanted to spill the beans to her, but what if she told on you? It wasn’t uncommon. Rape was not good for business. Then again, would she have done all of this for you if she wanted to sabotage you? Charlotte sat away from you in silence. She never said anything or did anything. She just waited.

You hard a light-hearted tone, and Charlotte picked up her cell. 

“It’s Petyr,” she said. “He’s holding a meeting in a couple of hours.” You sighed from exhaustion.

You forgot about Petyr. After what happened last night, you knew you trust him anymore. Your safety was clearly not his priority. It broke your heart, but you had to come to terms with it. If you told Petyr what brad had done, he could kick you out. Or worse, he could have you killed. You weren’t sure if Roose and Petyr still had an alliance, but you were sure Petyr had some kind of power. 

But Ramsay wouldn’t let that happen. If Petyr made you a target, Ramsay would come and defend you. Right?

You weren’t sure of anything anymore. You did know one thing: Petyr Baelish was at that wedding reception last night without Lysa Arryn. Charlotte’s fingers snapped in front of your face. You turned to her and she frowned.

“I didn’t want to pry,” she began. “But, are you okay? Did something else happen last night?” You pulled your sweater tighter around you, hoping to God she didn’t see anything. Charlotte moved off your bed to throw away your garbage.

“I understand if you don’t want to tell me,” Charlotte began. “I’m not going to force anything, but you can trust me. I want you to know that. Before we go see Petyr, you need to clean up yourself. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but Petyr’s been stricter with us lately. I believe he’s still up to something he isn’t telling us. I can only assume that this meeting is about last night.”

You stare at Charlotte blankly, trying to take in all of the info she just told you. Both of you made your way towards Petyr’s meeting place outside the Vale. It wasn’t your place to judge, but Petyr hid a lot of his business, personal life, and finances from Lysa. You saw how obsessed she was with him, but you and the other birds knew he could care less about her, if he cared at all.

Charlotte kept you in line. When your mind wandered off, she kept you focused. She put some warm English breakfast tea in your hands. The heat from the cup warmed you, and it kept you grounded. 

You walked into an office space that looked rented out by Petyr. It definitely wasn’t his. The general décor had hotel feel to it. Bowls of fruit and vague abstract pictures had no real value just pleasing to the eye. You saw Olyvar among other favorites, but not Ros. Your stomach dropped.

You forgot about Ros. How could you forget about Ros? You lost her at the reception. What happened to her? You stared at the door. She would come in anytime now. There was nothing to worry about. Charlotte sat you down next to her, away from anyone else, including Olyvar.

“Y/N, are you alright? I heard you were there last night,” Olyvar greeted. He was dressed handsomely for 6am in the morning. Every hair was in place. You felt slightly jealous. 

“Leave her be,” Charlotte glared. “She’s seen shit.” You narrowed your eyes. Charlotte’s never snapped at anyone like that. She’s endearing. That was her thing. Every favorite bird had one driving selling factor. Yours was your charm and attention-giving. You made your clients feel needed and cared for. You made them feel like they were the only person to ever exist.

Charlotte was kind and endearing. The innocent little lamb that sin could ruin. She had been nothing but nice to everyone when she became a favorite. To see her snap like that, to be so protective of you, was different.

Petyr walked into the room with Sansa Stark following behind him. She had her long, red hair in a ponytail. She wore a similar outfit to you. A sweater with what seemed like comfortable pants. She had done her makeup well, but you knew exhausted eyes when you saw them. You watched her sit down next to Petyr. Both of you caught each other’s eyes.

“Good morning everyone,” Petyr said, sipping his coffee. “I appreciate everyone coming out to on this early morning. The reason why I called for this meeting is to talk about what happened last night. I want to clarify things and to answer as many questions as I can.”

Ros still wasn’t here. Her absence bother you like an itch in a place you couldn’t reach. Where was she? Why didn’t anyone seem concerned?

“First, I think we should talk about Ros,” Petyr swallowed hard. You felt your heart beat faster. Petyr told another gulp of his coffee. He exhaled his breath and started to speak again. “When I contacted all of you, the police informed me that they found her.”

Olyvar bit his lip. “And?”

Petyr looked to his precious birds, including you. He ran his fingers through his hair and shook his head.

“No,” Olyvar gasped. “No, come on, Petyr. Petyr! No!” Other favorite birds followed in their reactions. You were lost. What happened?

“I’m so sorry,” Petyr apologized. He looked solemn, his eyes scanned the room for reactions. Studying each one until he got all the information he needed. He stopped to look at you. He studied you for quite some time. Your eyes were open, but you weren’t all there. He knew that.

“What did the police say?” Charlotte asked, bring the attention to herself. 

“Her body was in the dumpster right outside the reception,” Petyr said. “She barely had any family, but she did have her mother. I’ve contacted her to tell her what happened. Ros’ body will be sent home by her mother’s wishes.”

A mixture of sadness and confusion swept the room. You just spoke to her. You looked to Olyvar who had tears come down on his face. They were the best of friends. You watched him to try to keep himself as professional as possible. To lose your best friend suddenly was a painful thing. A part of your soul is ripped from you forever and it’s lost. Olyvar looked as if he lost half of his own.

You looked at Charlotte who remained stone cold. She did not cry. No tears even dared to form in her tear ducts. Instead she kept her eyes on Petyr. Her hand kept a tight grip on her phone. Her phone screen lit up to show Domeric Bolton’s face and a clock that recorded time as if she was on a phone call with him.

“I know this is sad news,” Petyr kept going. “But we must move on. What happened last night to Ros and Joffery was no accident.” That grabbed your attention like nothing else.

“What does that mean?” you asked. Your voice sounded hoarse. 

“Joffery’s death was a deal I had made with the Tyrells,” Petyr said it flat out. Most of the birds were left dumbfounded. You, however, were not surprised. You felt disgusted, but also very happy that Petyr had a hand in ending Joffery’s reign of terror. Charlotte kept unfazed as well.

Petyr looked to Sansa continued. “Joffery needed to die. I think we all knew that. Olenna Tyrell and I hired assassins to kill Joffery once and for all. This means big changes for all of you. Sansa is in danger. Cersei Lannister believes that she and Tyrion had planned this out for themselves. This is not true. I want you all to know that. Sansa had nothing to do with this.”  
You looked to Sansa who remained quiet. She barely touched her coffee in front of her. You felt awful for her. After the deaths of everyone around her, you could only imagine the loneliness she felt.

“From this point forward, we will be hiding her with us in the Vale. Cersei will be on the witch hunt for her.”

“So we’re going to hide her from the police?” Charlotte instigated. Petyr narrowed his eyes at her.

“We’re protecting her,” Petyr confirmed. 

“And what of Ros? Weren’t you supposed to protect her too? What about us?” Charlotte was pushing Petyr’s buttons. He kept his poker face and leaned forward.

“I am aware of the mistakes I am making, Charlotte. I am devastated over the loss of our Ros, and what happened between Ramsay and Y/N was my mistake. Ramsay was a monster,” Petyr said. Charlotte’s nostrils flared and she gripped her phone tighter. “Ros’ death was a murder. I had her meet with Joffery a few times. Someone outside my control knew this and took her out the same night.

“Someone knew about the discreet meetings between Joffery and Ros, and instead of exposing Joffery as a sex-corrupt politician, they killed Ros. They were targeting me.”

“They were targeting Ros!” Olyvar shouted. “Not everything is about you Petyr! You were supposed to be protecting her!”

“You need to calm down,” Petyr snapped at Olyvar. Olyvar slunk back into his chair. He closed his eyes and tried to breathe. The tension in the room grew by the second. You glanced down to see Charlotte still had the phone call going. 

“You will all still see your regular clients. If the police contact you, you will answer their questions, but lie about Sansa’s whereabouts. Y/N, you were not there, understand?” Petyr looked directly at you. You looked to Sansa and nodded at her. She nodded back. You would not do this for Petyr. You would do this for her.

Petyr continued to go on about how everyone will now “be-on-their-toes”, but you couldn’t listen anymore. How could you? You almost died because of Petyr’s mistakes, and now Ros was actually dead. How could anyone trust him? How could Sansa trust him?

There was no way you could tell him about last night now. Not when his new priority was protecting Sansa. You didn’t care why anymore. You didn’t want to work for this man anymore. It wasn’t like you could get up and quit. Petyr provided everything for his favorite birds. Your room at the Vale, food, drinks, glamour, clothes, credit cards, cell phone, income, and connections. 

Your life was tied to Petyr’s hands. Charlotte grabbed you again and began to guide you out of the meeting room. “The meeting’s finished?”

“The meeting’s been finished,” Charlotte frowned at you. “You’re really out of it, sweetie. We should grab you some breakfast or something.” Sansa walked towards both of you, and Charlotte put her cell phone away quickly. 

“Y/N, I wanted to talk to you,” she side-eyed Charlotte.

“It’s alright. Whatever you have to say, you can say in front of her. I trust her,” you said. Charlotte smiled sincerely at you. Sansa nodded.

“I only wanted to express my condolences for your loss,” she began. “I understand this is hard time for you.”

“You have experienced more loss recently than anyone here. You shouldn’t be saying sorry to me,” you knitted your eyebrows together. Sansa shook her head.

“Loss is loss. Pain is pain. It shouldn’t matter if someone experiences more of sorrow than you. Tragedy is not a race or a competition. What matters more is that we support one another, now more than ever,” Sansa looked to Charlotte for that last sentence. “I trust your friend will take care of you, but if you ever need anything, let me know.”

“Thank you,” you said. Sansa smiled and made her leave. Charlotte took your hand.

“You said you trust me?” you weren’t sure if Charlotte just asked you a question or saying a fact, but you nodded your head anyways. She guided you out of the building to a car that didn’t belong to Petyr. It was a sleek little thing that went fast. Charlotte tucked you into the passenger side of the car.

She began driving which confused you more than anything. Whenever you needed to go anywhere, Petyr had drivers that could take you there. Petyr didn’t allow any of his birds drive after he had to pay off several DUIs and some ran from him. None of the birds needed to drive anywhere. 

“Is this your car?” you asked her.

“Yes,” she smiled. “This is Miranda. Isn’t she lovely? She’s vicious, you know? She bites hard.” You looked around the car. There was barely any possessions in it. 

“And Petyr let you have this? Where did this even come from? We didn’t come here in this car.”

“Petyr doesn’t know about Miranda, but you do meaning I trust you, ok? Just trust me?” You recalled movies where a character is told by another character to just blindly trust them. You recall their awkward faces and every instinct telling them to not trust the character, but they go for it anyways.   
You recalled those parts in the movies and you always rolled your eyes, but you nodded. Despite your gut telling you no, you fucking went for it.

Charlotte drove her car onto the highway where she gunned it. She sped past and weaved in and out of cars on the road. You didn’t want to tell her how to drive, but you were very sure you were going to die before you reached your destination. 

“Where are we going? This seems to be a long way for breakfast,” you noted.

“It is a long way for breakfast, isn’t it?” Charlotte giggled. She was still gunning it at 85mph. You had no idea why no police were chasing after her. Where was the police? Oh right. Joffery’s murder. There was bound to be a bunch of activity across the nation. Your mind went to Ros. He wild, red hair. Her cocky smile and doe eyes. 

“Hey you, don’t wander off on me,” Charlotte snapped your attention back to reality. “We’re almost there anyways.”

Your phone started to ring. You turned it over to see Brad’s face flash across the screen. Your stomach twisted and turned. Your breath fell short. You had to answer. You had to. 

“Don’t answer,” Charlotte told you.

“But—

“He was your date last night. He’s one of your clients right?” Charlotte looked at your ringing phone. “Something happened between the two of you. Your face makes it so obvious.” You touched your face and looked back to your phone.

“Don’t answer it,” Charlotte told you again. You let the phone ring and go to voicemail.

“He’s going to be so mad,” you muttered in panic. Your hands started to shake. Fingers twitched and you felt out of control of your body. Charlotte grabbed your hand and kept it steady.

“Tell me the color of that car right there,” she told you. You looked outside to see a blue van with a stick figure family on the back window.

“Blue.”

“Read the first word on that sign right there.” You looked to the highway sign.

“North.”

“What do you call that over there?”

“Wall.”

“Take a breath and say those words again,” Charlotte instructed you. You inhaled the air and exhaled.

“Blue. North. Wall,” you said. “Blue. North. Wall.” You felt calmer all of a sudden.

“It’s a grounding technique, if you were wondering,” Charlotte caressed your hand. “I know you didn’t want to talk about it earlier, but what happened last night?” You swallowed hard.

“I-I don’t think I’m ready to talk about it yet,” you admitted to her. Charlotte nodded.

“I understand,” she said as she pulled out of the highway and into a narrow road. It wasn’t paved. The tires caught pieces of gravel inside its grooves. You looked around to see dirty and old warehouses lining the streets. The exterior of these buildings were disgusting. You saw nothing but vandalism, dirt, and ruin on each of these giants. 

“You said we were going to—

“We’re close. I told you to trust me. Please trust me for a while longer, pretty bird. I promise,” Charlotte pressed a button in her car and a garage door opened. She parked her car, and let you out. She brushed off your shoulders and nodded for you to come along. 

As soon as she opened the door, your mouth almost dropped to the ground. The outside of this warehouse had grime and dirt smeared all over it with broken windows, but inside was a dream. Everything had been redone. The walls and hardwood floors were spotless. High ceilings showed the exposed steel beams and large windows brought in light and warmth to the common areas.

It was an open concept. In the middle of the room was the living area where plush couches and sectionals were arranged to face each other. Throw blankets and pillows decorated them. To the left was bookshelves that not only had books but trinkets from around the world. You spotted a beautifully painted elephant on the third shelf. 

You sniffed the air to smell eggs, bacon, and pancakes. You heard the sizzle on the grill, and looked to your right.

“Domeric?” you said aloud. Charlotte walked over to him and gave him a kiss on the cheek. Domeric Bolton saw you and nearly jumped back ten feet.

“Y/N?” Dom quickly looked at Charlotte. “Char, what is she—

“We’re placing her under our protection, ok?” she insisted. 

“What? You can’t do that, Char. Are you crazy? Does she even know?”

“Know what? I’m really confused. Char told me we were getting breakfast,” you said.

“And you are,” Charlotte pulled up a chair. “Dom, give her pancakes.”  
“Out of all the girls in the world, you bring her into our home and—

“Domeric Eugene Bolton, you give Y/N some fucking pancakes right now,” Charlotte slammed her hands down on the counter. Domeric quietly put pancakes on a plate and served them to you. 

“Did he just say our home?” you asked her. “Charlotte, what’s going on?” Domeric side-eyed Charlotte for a moment and went back to making breakfast. 

“I’m not really one of Petyr’s birds. I never was. I was a plant. A spy,” Charlotte said to you. “I am a Red King, and I’ve been working against Petyr Baelish and you birds for years.”


	20. Your Soul Is Mine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guysssssssss. I know you've been waiting for this one. I gotta say i had tons of fun with it.
> 
> WHOO  
>  Music: Paint It Black - Hidden Citizens (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2PHyceqtIDg)

_“Domeric Eugene Bolton, you give Y/N some fucking pancakes right now,” Charlotte slammed her hands down on the counter. Domeric quietly put pancakes on a plate and served them to you._

_“Did he just say our home?” you asked her. “Charlotte, what’s going on?” Domeric side-eyed Charlotte for a moment and went back to making breakfast._

_“I’m not really one of Petyr’s birds. I never was. I was a plant. A spy,” Charlotte said to you. “I am a Red King, and I’ve been working against Petyr Baelish and you birds for years.”_

There were places where darkness is born and something awful smells. Where flesh rots and dead kings haunt the walls. You can hear their last words lingering in your ears, ‘a flayed man has no secrets.’ The floor had broken concrete and the ceilings leaked water.

This was a haunted place, a broken place. A distinct screaming was heard in the basement below. Other hostages, prisoners, etc. sat in their rooms, tied up and terrified they would be next. The screaming became louder, and one grown man hostage tried t make himself small, thinking that this was all a dream and he would wake up soon.

Behind a wooden door, the screaming victim was trying his hardest to breathe. He had screamed so loud, and he was under immense pressure. He wouldn’t be able to hold it for much longer. His endurance was losing. For a moment, he thought he was going to die here in this forgotten place. 

“My patience is almost gone, Karstark,” a low voice warned. “Tell me where Winterfell’s weak spots are. I know that you know. You were their security. It was your job.” The Karstark man mustered up his energy and spat blood at the voice.

“I ain’t afraid of you, Bolton cunt,” his neck extended as far as he could. For a grown man who was crucified to an X in the middle of the room, the Karstark man had a lot of nerve. The voice stayed close to his face, inhaling the dried blood on his cheek from the cut he made earlier.

“That’s a mistake, Karstark,” the voice smirked. He sunk his flaying knife into his side and twisted it. The Karstark groaned and tried to hold the pain in. He was growing exhausted. “Do not test my patience any longer. I want my answers.”

The Karstark man breathed in and out. He was trying to stay steady and calm. He had heard no man had survived Roose Bolton’s son’s tormenting hands. He didn’t believe in these tall tales. He would survive this. _‘He’s just a boy.’_ He thought to himself. _‘Only a horrid, unloved boy.’_

“I’m waiting,” he said. He took the flying knife out and went to his table filled with all sorts of toys. The Karstark man watched him as he chose another weapon: a metal shaped pear. He went around to his backside, dragging his pants down.

“What are you doing?” the Karstark man became desperate. “Stop! What are you doing?!” Suddenly, he felt an intense amount of pressure in his asshole. The cold, rusty metal irritated and tore his skin until it stopped. The device stood in place; held there by the Karstark’s clenching. A small amount of blood trickled down his leg. He started to sweat, and that’s when the boy opened his mouth.

“Do you like truth or dare? I do. I like it when people tell me what I want. Every time you tell me the truth, I’ll pull this out a little bit. Every time you lie to me, well,” he cackled. “you’ll see.”

“Take it out. Take it out now!”

“Tell me about Winterfell’s weak spots. Tell me about the Greyjoys. Who do they have there?” he asked. The Karstark groaned loudly, and he heard a click. Suddenly, the device tore his asshole and skin more, widening the opening. He screamed in response.

“That’ not a valid answer,” he laughed. As the cruel boy was about to turn the device again, a small voice was at the door. 

“Master,” he greeted. “I’m sorry, but you’re needed in the upper floor.” 

“Not now,” he said. He turned and the device clicked. It widened the Karstark’s opening more. The Karstark screamed so hard, he found it hard to breathe again.

“Sir please,” the small voice pleaded. His frame was small. His hair was matted, and his skin was aged despite being so young. His master stopped what he was doing, and went other to the poor thing. He grabbed him by his shirt and punched him twice in the eye. The small figure curled up on the ground, almost weeping.

“Did you not hear me?” his master held his face and spat in his ear. “I said, not now.” 

“Y-yellow Dick sent me,’ the weeping figure explained. “He said it was urgent. About the Lannister spies.” The Master turned to the Karstark man and narrowed his eyes.

“We’re not finished yet,” he left the room, dragging the small figure behind him by his shirt. They walked to the upper floors of the ravaged building. The windows were broken into and had different shades of green, gray, and yellow to them. Cold breeze flew through the large meeting room. At the end of the room was several screen formed to make one large tv screen on the wall. Several chair and tables were about with several Red Kings sitting in them. 

Their faces were not cold, stoic, or emotionless. They were worried, concerned, and some cringed when he entered the room. He dropped the small figure on the ground. The small figure responded by scattering away towards the Bastard’s boys who sat in the front of the room, waiting.

“Sit Reek,” Ben Bones ordered. The small figure sat on the ground, favoring his right eye. “Afternoon, Ramsay.”

Ramsay stood in front of the Chicago division of the Red Kings and his boys. “What the hell do you want?”

“Yellow Dick has some information he needs to share with you,” Ben explained. 

“As my head of knowledge, he should have info,” Ramsay spat. “That’s what’s expected of him.” Yellow Dick sat unfazed by his laptop. He had no hair on his shaved head, but he did have the infamous Red King’s “X” on his neck with several piercings on his ears and nose. He wore a yellow beanie on his head, protecting his head from the cold room.

“I have received intel from our inter-house spies,” his bored voice echoed in the room. He pressed a key on his laptop and it started a slideshow. “The Greyjoys have received our special package. They know we have Theon. There have been musings of Yara planning to attack us, but we’re ready for her.”

Yellow Dick pressed his keyboard and another slide displayed blueprints of the Winterfell estate and company buildings. 

“The Greyjoys have been holding down Winterfell since the disappearance and death of the two youngest Stark boys. They are weak. We can take it from them.”

“Although your father and brother advise we wait for the Lannister to give it to us,” Ben interrupted. Ramsay examined the blueprints. 

“We don’t need to take Karstarks anymore. We have the information right here,” Yellow Dick said. “We can let the go.” Ramsay frowned.

“And let them go back to their superiors to tell them what happened? I don’t think so,” Ramsay corrected. He pointed out five Red Kings. “You. Go to the basement and execute all Karstarks. We don’t need their northern stubbornness anymore.”

Five Red Kings stood up and left the room in a rush. Each of them already brandishing a gun in their hand. Yellow Dick waited for them to leave to continue. He pressed another key on the keyboard. This slide displayed pictures of Joffery’s murder scene. His head was disfigured and bloody. Broken glass was around his head and shoulders.

“Joffery’s death has been determined as a murder of course,” Yellow Dick continued. “Cersei suspects her brother and Sansa Stark. While her brother rots in jail, Sansa Stark has yet to be found. She disappeared that night and no one has found her yet.”

“Who really killed him?” Ramsay paced around the room. Some Red Kings kept their eye on him, waiting for something to happen.

“Dornish assassins,” Yellow said. “It seems Petyr Baelish didn’t seek out our services for that one.”

“No, no he did not,” Ramsay narrowed his eyes as he looked at the next slide which showed pictures of police reports. Some detailed how the shot was taken. “Does my father and brother know?”

“I had a private meeting with your father this morning,” Yellow responded. “He suspects that Petyr may be looking to betray us soon. Roose pointed out that Charlotte should report to him about him and his birds. Roose thinks he’s planning something now that Joffery’s dead. In the meantime, we still have Cersei and Tywin on our side. They are powerful allies.”

“What else?” Ramsay asked. 

“Well,” Yellow Dick went through his notes. “Deborah informed us the Tyrells and Lannisters are planning new alliances. Tywin wishes to marry off Cersei with Loras.”

“That’s useless to me. What else?”

“Nothing else, sir,” Yellow Dick couldn’t meet his eyes. Ramsay stood in front of him.

“Don’t lie to me.”

“Your father thought it would be best if you didn’t know. He said he wanted to take of this last manner personally.”

“What is it?” Ramsay asked.

“You don’t want to know,” Yellow Dick looked Ramsay in his eyes. “If I were you, I wouldn’t want to know. Your father seems to think the same thing.” Ramsay slammed his hand son the table, startling everyone around him.

“Need I remind you of who’s in charge? Do you think I let my father tell me what I can or can’t do? What. Is. It,” Ramsay’s fingers tapped against the table impatiently. Yellow Dick looked to the other Bastard’s Boys.

“Ramsay, he’s serious,” Ben said. “You are one of my best friends in this world. If I were you and I had a choice, I wouldn’t want to know either.” Ben’s words were sincere and honest. Ramsay kicked over a chair. It flew across the room. The metal landed by a Red King. All of them stared at Ramsay in concern.

“Show me,” Ramsay demanded. He took out his gun and pointed it at Yellow’s head. “Don’t make me ask again. Yellow exhaled his remaining air and typed away at his keyboard. He projected a paused video on the screen. Ramsay narrowed his eyes. The video looked dark and he only saw a young man. “The fuck am I looking at?”

“Do you remember a while ago we hired on a Lannister spy named Bradley Swyft? It was shortly after the murder you went on with…her,” Yellow Dick dropped the name.

“Y/N. Her name is Y/N. Yes, I remember,” Ramsay lowered his gun. 

“I originally hired him on to gather intel for us on the Tyrells and Lannister’s alliance between Joffery and Margaery,” Yellow continued. He cleared his throat, finding it more difficult with each sentence to keep his mouth moist. “His position changed at your request to keep an eye on Y/N. So far it’s been successful. He provides us names and—

“And I take them out,” Ramsay finished, his eyes still deciphering the video. 

“Yes, well his regular reporting stopped five days before the wedding reception,” Yellow told Ramsay. Ramsay turned and faced Yellow.

“What is that supposed to mean exactly?” his eyes narrowed. Yellow sighed.

“Through his own investigation, Brad Swyft found out that it was his uncle you murdered at the gala. He also found other intel against the Lannisters, including our plans to execute any and all Lannister allies if Tywin betrays us.”

“You’re fucking kidding me,” Ramsay lowered his voice. 

“No, and it gets worse,” Yellow sighed and looked at Ben. “It appears he has been talking to all the other Red King Lannister spies, he’s rallying them up against us. He claims we can’t take their innocent lives that it wasn’t part of the deal.” Ramsay laughed. 

“They have no rights. They’re pawns,” Ramsay kept laughing.

“He thought you would laugh. That’s why he sent us this,” Yellow pointed to the video. Ramsay looked at the video and laughed harder.

“Oh? Is this his manifesto?” he said. “Oh, this will be good. Play it.” Yellow’s eyesbrows knitted together. An uncomfortable silence fell over the room.

“Ramsay—

“Play it. I wanna see it,” Ramsay gestured to the video. Yellow looked to Ben. Ben nodded his head. Yellow pressed play on his keyboard. The video started to play. The darkness in the room didn’t change much, but Brad Swyft started to speak.

“I know who you are. I know what you are, Ramsay Bolton. You are the worst kind of monster alive.”

Ramsay smirked, enjoying the show.

“You think you rule the world. You think there’s no consequences to your actions. I know what you did to my uncle. I know what you’re planning to do to the rest of us. I’m going to tell everyone. The Lannisters won’t want you now. We’re coming after you.”

Ramsay laughed once. “Come try me.” He paced back and forth, watching the big screen. He stole an unopened bottle of beer from one of the Red Kings. Ramsay opened it and took a big gulp, still smiling.

“Karma is coming for you tonight, Ramsay. And you’re invited to see it front row.” Ramsay rolled his eyes as the film cut to an empty well-lit hotel bathroom. No one was there until a hand picked up the camera and moved it to the nightstand where Ramsay saw a singular cuffed hand. 

His eyes narrowed. “The fuck? What kind of karma is this?” He watched the cuffed hand struggled weakly against the bedpost. That’s when he heard it.

“I trusted you!” a very familiar voice cried out. Ramsay lost his grip on the beer bottle and it crashed onto the ground, shattering in pieces. The liquid spilled out in multiple directions. Ramsay’s mouth dropped open. He continued watching.

Brad changed the camera position to above you. Your clothes were torn. Your eyes were opening and shutting. They were dilated and crying. A belt unbuckling was heard and then fabric was moving. 

“Don’t fucking do it,” Ramsay muttered. “Don’t you fucking dare.”

You started to sob and tears fell down your face. Brad laughed. “Yes exactly.” Ramsay’s eye twitched. His hands balled up into fists. This was not happening. This couldn’t be happening. Brad changed the camera angle again to show his tongue being shoved into your mouth. You made choking noises. You barely could breathe. 

Ramsay’s breath became short. He could feel his eyes burning as he watched Brad’s cock bing forced inside you over and over and over and over. 

Ramsay’s temper was infamous among the Red Kings. You could piss off Domeric and live. You could piss off Roose Bolton and live. Not many people lived after pissing off Ramsay. He put his own brother in the hospital for stealing a toy when they were children. Rage and anger came easily to Ramsay. 

He enjoyed what he did. He was very content hurting other people. He loved to watch their reaction and see the go through immense pain. He was a curious man who pushed the limits of each human he touched, just as long as you didn’t push his limits. If you pissed him off as he tortured you, he would only make you go through the pain longer until you begged for him to kill you.

Yes, murder and rage came easily to Ramsay, but this was not rage or murder.

Ramsay couldn’t look away. He watched you being raped. Your consciousness going in and out. Your exhausted body being hit and hurt. Your pretty clothes being ripped apart. His stomach felt sick. His hands shook. 

Then Ramsay watched you look at the door. _You were waiting for him. You were waiting for him to come through._ Brad laughed again and thursted harder.

“What? You think someone’s coming for you? No one’s coming, whore. It’s just you and me.” Brad kept thrusting into you. Ramsay watched you look away from the door, and then finally he watched your passed out body rock back and forth. Then, a white substance covered your body.

“She’s mine, Bolton.” The video ended. Another silence fell over the room like a quiet thunderstorm. No one said a word. Short, nervous breathing and a few beeps from Yellow’s laptop created some noise. Ben stepped up and started to walk towards Ramsay who faced away from everyone, his blue eyes still on the black screen.

Ben reached out to him. “Ramsay—

Ramsay quickly took out his gun and shot the first three Red kings nearest to him. They each fell over clutching their chests. Ramsay quickly reloaded and pointed the gun to Yellow.

“Where is she?” he said, his body was vibrating. “Tell me where she is and I let you live.”

“Ramsay I don’t—

“That’s not an answer,” Ramsay shoots the Red King behind Yellow in the head. The Red King falls over dead. Other Red King start to move and try to exit the room. “No one leaves! The next time someone moves, bang! Bang you’re dead! Bang you’re dead! Bang Bang! Everyone dies.”

Everyone stops moving. Ramsay points the gun at Yellow again. His eyes were burning red. His muscles twitched. “Where is she?”

Yellow tried to stay calm with a gun in his face. “I don’t know. No one does. None of my spies saw her return to the Vale or to Petyr. He sent one more thing.”

“Give it to me.” 

Yellow handed over a small box and opened it for Ramsay. Inside of it was a pretty blue bird, dead. A note above it read: “I’ve got your pretty bird, and I’ll send pieces of her to you since you forgot what she looks like just to remind you.”

Ramsay threw the box across the room. He took a machine gun from a Red King and began destroying the big screen. Multiple bullets spread across the wall, breaking the glass. Pieces fell to the ground and shattered. Everyone ducked and waited for Ramsay to stop, but he didn’t. 

He reloaded the gun and destroyed the windows, the chairs, the tables, and wounded several others. Grunt and Ben came behind Ramsay and forced him to the ground. His body struggled against the both of them. Yellow took away the machine gun and stepped back with it. Ramsay screamed at the top of his lungs.

“I’M COMING FOR YOU, BRAD! DO YOU HEAR ME? I AM COMING FOR YOUR SOUL!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please tell me what you think because I was so pumped writing this like wow


	21. Start From The Beginning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Music: Biting Down - Lorde (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gtF7l5rqsxM)

_Yellow handed over a small box and opened it for Ramsay. Inside of it was a pretty blue bird, dead. A note above it read: “I’ve got your pretty bird, and I’ll send pieces of her to you since you forgot what she looks like just to remind you.”_

_Ramsay threw the box across the room. He took a machine gun from a Red King and began destroying the big screen. Multiple bullets spread across the wall, breaking the glass. Pieces fell to the ground and shattered. Everyone ducked and waited for Ramsay to stop, but he didn’t._

_He reloaded the gun and destroyed the windows, the chairs, the tables, and wounded several others. Grunt and Ben came behind Ramsay and forced him to the ground. His body struggled against the both of them. Yellow took away the machine gun and stepped back with it. Ramsay screamed at the top of his lungs._

_“I’M COMING FOR YOU, BRAD! DO YOU HEAR ME? I AM COMING FOR YOUR SOUL!”_

You sat there at the breakfast bar with your mouth gaping open. “You’re one of them?”

“Yes,” Charlotte frowned, given your reaction. She held her hands up in surrender. “I know you have a lot of questions. I’m going to give you answers because I trust you.”

“You didn’t trust me before?” you answered, offended. Charlotte cringed.

“Well, hm. I didn’t know. As one of Petyr’s top favorites, you worked closely with him. It was hard for me to tell if you were on Petyr’s or our side. I didn’t know entirely until Ramsay confirmed it for me.” Your ears perked up at the sound of his name. 

“What did he say?” 

“He told me he was planning to take you to Chicago,” she smiled. “He wanted to take you away from everyone and everything. He wanted to show you that he cared, and that was all I needed to know.” Your mind flashed back to Chicago and the torture you brought onto Theon Greyjoy. You remembered Ramsay’s skin against yours. You missed that feeling.

“I miss him,” you almost sobbed out. You tried to keep it together.

“I know,” Charlotte rubbed your shoulder. “Come with me.” Charlotte took your plate and guided you to the couches in the center of their makeshift warehouse home. Your body sunk into the couch while Charlotte gave you a blanket to make yourself more comfortable. Dom gave you another plate filled with eggs and bacon along with a glass of cold orange juice. 

Charlotte exhaled. “Where to start?”

“From the beginning, tell her everything,” Dom sat beside her, kissing her on the cheek. She hummed.

“I knew there was a good reason why I loved you,” her body leaned into his for a moment, and then she leaned forward towards you, making sure to push the food towards you. “I was young girl trapped in a bad home. My mother drank a lot. She would get angry and come for my father and me. My father thought of leaving so many times, but my mother’s brothers wouldn’t let him. 

“They would threaten him and tell him ‘You gonna leave her like that? We’ll kill you’. My dad and I were trapped until one afternoon. I watched him pack everything he and I owned and shove it into a truck I’ve never seen before. It was snowing that day.” Charlotte nodded. You watched her eyes flash back into her mind. 

“He wrapped me up in my winter jacket and then two blankets. He put me in the front seat in such a rush that he almost forgot the keys to the truck. He jumped in and we drove off. He didn’t lie to me. He told me that we were leaving mom and my uncles for a new home. 

“I fell asleep and the next thing I knew, we were in Chicago. I had never been there before, and I fell in love with everything. The snow falling, the way the buildings reach to the sky, and the smell of pizza from the restaurants.

“My dad finally put me in a good school. I had friends. I could go places. I didn’t exactly know what my dad was doing, but they paid him well. Then, I met the Boltons.” Charlotte’s hand reached to Dom’s. They held each other’s hands modestly. Dom’s thumb circled the top of her hand. You continued to eat, and Charlotte continued telling her story.

“Roose was softer back then. At least, to me, he was. He considered me a daughter of sorts. Domeric, Ramsay, and I became childhood friends, and then when were teenagers, Dom and I fell in love. He was my first kiss, my first love, my first—everything.” Charlotte’s cheeks blushed slightly when she said that. You nodded understanding what she meant.

You had never seen two people more in sync with one another. You didn’t believe in true love much yourself, but you had to admit that Dom and Char fit together perfectly. 

“That’s wonderful,” you said, polishing off the bacon on your plate. “But what about the Red Kings?”

“That’s the trickier part. I had never questioned my dad or Roose until my 17th birthday. My dad promised me something special. He would always take me out to dinner. Just him and me. I dressed up and he took me out, but this time Roose joined us. I thought it was weird, but Roose assured me everything was fine.

“He gave me my first gun and explained to me that my dad and him were Red Kings. They explained to me what that meant, what they did, and asked if I could join them.”

“What’s so tricky about that?” you asked.   
“My first assignment was to murder my uncles,” Charlotte said flatly. “Turns out, my mother died in a car accident years prior. She didn’t care to find us, but my uncles were on the Red King’s radar. At 17 years old, I took out both of them.” You stopped eating. Charlotte’s face hardened. Seventeen year olds shouldn’t murder their family members.

“Since then, she was an official member,” Domeric finished for her. “That’s how you become a Red King. You have to murder someone, or complete a solo mission. This mission was very important to us. Charlotte had no choice, but to play her part.”

“I understand,” you said. “Petyr has us play our parts too. It’s just part of the job.” Lying came easy to you, but experiencing the emotional damage of it all hurt. Domeric picked up your now empty plates, and continued speaking despite the silence fallen between you and Charlotte.

“Roose doesn’t trust Petyr. He never has. That’s why my father sent her to be a Pretty Bird with all of you. To find out if Petyr would betray the Lannisters. Cersei wanted to know for herself. But we all know that Petyr has his eyes set on Lysa Arryn and her assets, and that he was responsible for Joffery’s death. So, he betrayed the Lannisters anyways.

“But then again, Lannisters don’t trust us completely and right now neither does Petyr. He probably suspects something. It all goes around. Each side of the triangle knows something about the other. Something that could bring damage or break ties, but each side is careful.” Domeric returned to Charlotte’s side. “Do you understand now, Y/N? Please don’t be mad or upset with her. This is just how things are.”

Domeric was completely different from his brother. Where Ramsay took action, Domeric thought about the consequences. Where Ramsay ran his mouth, Domeric listened. In some ways, Domeric was his father’s son. It was clear who was going to take over when Roose would retire. 

You thought about where you were, who you were with, and who to trust. Petyr had told you the truth until recently. It seemed he was not the man you first trusted. You fell for Ramsay and it almost resulted with your death. Charlotte had been lying to you this entire time, yet she brought you here and told you the truth. They needed to know. Both of them did. You were there the night of the wedding. You had conversations with Sansa and Margaery.

The problem wasn’t the sensitive information. The problem was you were surrounded by liars. Professional, paid liars.

“Y/N, I’m really sorry,” Charlotte said, breaking the tension. “I really do want us to be friends. Good friends. I didn’t lie about everything.” You thought about being drugged. You thought about the people rushing out the doors. The way Brad grabbed you. The way he touched you. 

“I have to tell you something,” you quietly said. You could feel your hands shaking.

“What’s wrong?” Charlotte noted your hands as well.

“It’s about the wedding, something happened. A lot of things happened.” You felt your body curl into itself. Charlotte took opportunity and sat next to you.

“You can tell me, you know that right? You can trust me,” Charlotte waited for your answer.

“I was there. Brad had introduced me to Sansa and Margaery. Both of them looked so beautiful, and then Sansa talked to me alone. She told me that Joffery was a monster. How he abused her, and Joffery was speaking and the next thing I knew he was shot. People were everywhere. Petyr was there—

“Petyr was there?” Domeric interrupted. He sat on the other side of you. You nodded.

“And then everything just—

You couldn’t find the words. You gestured a jumbled mess with your hands. Dom and Char gave you concerned looks. You inhaled deeply. You had to find the words. You had to say it.

“I think I was drugged. No, not think. I know. I was drugged,” Charlotte gasped and Dom stiffened.

“What? What do you mean? What happened to you?”

“I found it hard to stand. I felt drunk, but I wasn’t drunk. I wasn’t drunk. I didn’t drink enough to be drunk. I couldn’t text anyone. I felt like I couldn’t do anything. And then Brad came and he put me in his car and he drove me off and then he—

Your words stopped. Your mind flashed back to his tongue in your mouth. His member inside of you. Your body moving back and forth. How he had held you and laughed in your face. How he threw you and left you behind like trash. 

“And then he what, Y/N?” Charlotte’s tone changed. She became harsher. She snapped her fingers in front of your face. “What happened?” You glanced at her face. It was hard. It was serious. She knew exactly where you were going with this.

Your shaky breath exhaled. You felt tears at the edges of your eyes. You had to calm yourself if you were you were going to say this. 

“He raped me. He raped me and he recorded it. He threatened me. He told me if I said anything that he would release the video and expose Petyr and his birds,” you felt the weight lift off of your chest. You felt like you could breathe. 

Charlotte could not find the will to breathe. You watched her anger rise. You thought you saw hairs rise from her head. She stood up suddenly and paced. 

“I knew something happened. I fucking knew it,” she muttered to herself. You turned to Dom. His blue eyes looked incredibly sad; they reminded you of Ramsay’s.

“Is it alright if I hug you?” he asked. You nodded. Dom’s arms held you tight and rubbed your back. Charlotte kept pacing.

“I told him. I told you both that we can’t trust a fucking Lannister to watch over her,” Charlotte began. “But he didn’t listen to me.”

“What?” you said. “Brad was watching over me?”

“They hired him to watch over you,” Charlotte pointed at Dom. Dom frowned. 

“Don’t do this, Char. Don’t fucking blame me,” Dom’s grip grew looser on you. “I didn’t do this.”

“He was paid to watch over me? For how long?” you had so many questions. How much did you really know about the Red Kings? How much did they know about you? Who was a Red King? Who was on Petyr’s side? Was Petyr spying on you as well? Your head started to hurt from everything. 

“I didn’t hire him,” Dom calmly said.

“But you advised Ramsay to do it,” Charlotte pointed out. 

“What do you want me to say, Char?” he shouted. Your body curled up into a ball, and Charlotte sat back down and held you, glaring at her partner.

“Y/N, did you take a shower?” Dom asked you. You shook your head. “Good. I’m going to call my father. He knows a discreet doctor to perform and prepare a rape kit. In the meantime, Charlotte, you’ll need to connect with Yellow to see if he can locate Brad and his whereabouts. We can’t have that video exposed.” Charlotte nodded. 

As Domeric slipped out his cell and exited the room to make the phone call. Charlotte began to text Yellow about your incident. You felt yourself calming down. You could trust them. They were helping you, and for the first time in weeks you finally felt safe.

Charlotte’s face twisted in confusion. 

“What’s wrong?” you asked. Charlotte pressed a few buttons on her phone, and you watched her phone screen flicker from text to a phone call. She put her finger to her lips, and you nodded. The dial tone rung and you heard a voice answer.

“Charlotte, this would be much faster if we talked,” the voice said on speakerphone. You heard a lot of yelling in the background along with other loud, thudding noises. 

“What’s going on over there, Yellow? Was that Ben?” she asked, putting the phone in between you both.

“I’ll explain in a second,” Yellow sounded like he was running. He couldn’t quite catch his breath. “Listen, we know. We all know what happened to Y/N.” Charlotte’s eyebrows furrowed.

“What do you mean you know?” Charlotte’s poisonous tone took over.

“The video. Brad sent us the video. We can’t locate him or Y/N. Ramsay’s snapped and he—FUCK!” you heard loud banging noises. Gunshots.

“Yellow?” Charlotte shouted. “What the fuck?!”

“Sorry, sorry!” Suddenly it was quiet. You could only hear Yellow catching his breath. “Brad sent us the video of him and Y/N. I tried to keep it from Ramsay, but he demanded to see it. Then he fucking snapped. He killed three of his own men in within seconds. Charlotte, he put a gun to my head.”

“Alright calm down,” Charlotte said. “Tell me what’s happening now.”

“Ramsay’s on a rampage. He’s destroying the fucking headquarters. All of it. He shot up the windows. He shot up the TV screen. We took away an assault rifle from him, but he got loose and grabbed a different weapon. He got loose in the basement and murdered all of our Karstak hostages.”

“Was he mumbling to himself?” Charlotte asked calmly. 

“Yeah! Yeah he was,” Yellow said. Another loud bang came from the background. Domeric entered the room again to see you both huddled around a phone.

“What’s going on?” Domeric asked. 

“Ramsay knows. He saw the video Brad recorded. He’s currently on a rampage. A far as I know, he’s killed over eight people,” Charlotte presented the facts.

“Jesus,” Domeric put his hand out. “Give me the phone.” He took the phone and kept it on speakerphone.

“Charlotte, listen he’s getting pretty scary. I don’t know where Ben is.”

“Yellow, it’s me, Domeric,” he said.

“Oh thank God!” Yellow shouted. “Dom, your brother’s gone insane. What the hell do I do?”

“Put my brother on the phone,” Dom said flatly.

“Are you insane? Didn’t you hear what I told your girlfriend?” Yellow panicked. “Your brother put a gun to my fucking head! He shot the guy right behind me!—

“Nine people,” Charlotte corrected herself.

“—And you want me to go to your brother?”

“Yes I do,” Dom was completely serious. “Trust me. Put him on the phone.” You heard a loud groan.

“Fine! But if I die—

“You’re not going to die, Yellow,” Domeric assured him. You all heard footsteps running again with loud banging noises increasing in volume. You heard two voices arguing and then struggling.

“WHAT?!” Ramsay shouted over the phone. “The fuck do you want Dom?!” 

“You need to stop,” Domeric said calmly, sitting down next to you. “Calm down.”

“You want me to calm down? CALM DOWN?” You heard three gunshots. “There’s your ‘calm down’ jackass!” 

“Ramsay, listen to me for a second, you need to calm down. I have someone here you need to talk to,” Dom looked at you. Your eyes went wide.

“I swear to fucking Dom, if it’s Dad, I will strangle both of—

“Ramsay, please stop,” you said, interrupting him. You heard nothing. Silence fell between everyone. 

“Y/N?” Ramsay said. “You’re okay? You’re safe?”

“I’m with Dom and Charlotte. I’m safe.”

“Where are you?” Ramsay immediately said.

“She’s at our safehouse two hours away from Vegas,” Dom took over. “Father just ordered the deaths of Lysa Arryn, Petyr Baelish, and all Lannister spies. Rally up whoever you got and get to the Vale now. We will meet you there.”

“Fine, put her on the phone and take me off of speakerphone,” Ramsay calmly said, returning to his ‘normal’ state. Dom took off the speakerphone and handed you the phone. Charlotte and Dom left you alone, and started to pack. They were good at following orders.

You put the phone to your ear. “Ramsay?” you quietly said.  
“Y/N,” Ramsay’s voice never sounded so good before. “He will feel your pain, do you hear me? I’m going to make him feel your pain a thousand times over. I’m coming for you. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” you sobbed, and then Ramsay hung up the phone. He was coming, and he was bringing his entire army with him. He wasn’t coming to follow orders. He was coming for you.


	22. So Here's The Plan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Music: When Worlds Collide - Powerman 5000 (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lsV500W4BHU)

_You put the phone to your ear. “Ramsay?” you quietly said._

_“Y/N,” Ramsay’s voice never sounded so good before. “He will feel your pain, do you hear me? I’m going to make him feel your pain a thousand times over. I’m coming for you. Do you understand?”_

_“Yes,” you sobbed, and then Ramsay hung up the phone. He was coming, and he was bringing his entire army with him. He wasn’t coming to follow orders. He was coming for you._

LOCATION: The Vale, Las Vegas, NV. TIME: 5:30PM

_“The plan is simple,” Dom began. “My father is currently taking care of the spies that reside with Cersei. I suspect she may notice a few of her servants gone, but it’s not like she cared about them anyways. What we need to worry about is the spies in the Vale.”_

Domeric and you arrived in an Uber together. You held each other’s hands and laughed with your driver. You both gave him the impression that you were on a honeymoon. Your driver smiled and wished you both a wonderful time. You left the car and watched it leave you behind. 

_“As far as we know, Brad has rallied up most of the spies inside the Vale. He’s met up with Petyr in a private meeting. They must be working together. He could be providing the spies with some kind of protection, or maybe it’s the way other way around. Either way, we’re going into heavily guarded territory.”_

Before you both head inside, Domeric presses a device against his ear. It beeps twice. He nods to you. You repeat the same motion. You heard two pitched beeps in your ear. You let down your hair to cover the secret device. 

_“Charlotte and Yellow will be our eyes and ears in the Vale. All IT will follow their orders and give direction to everyone else.”_

Charlotte saw your markers on a pawn’s screen. 

“They’re live and inside. I repeat TrueBorn and PrettyBird are inside,” Charlotte spoke into her microphone. Yellow Dick nodded. He’s surrounded by screens displaying all of the cameras in the Vale. One flickered to just outside the entrance showing Domeric and you together.

“It’s time people!” Yellow announced. The rest of the IT pawns stared at their screens, furiously hacking and typing away, making sure everything and everyone is in place. Pawns muttered into their mics telling where the rest of the Red Kings to go. 

_“Most IT will tell where and when the Red Kings to go. We need to take out as many Lannister spies as we can, but we have to be smart about this. Since the purple wedding, Lysa has hired extra security to keep her guests, famous or not, safe. No matter what we cannot get caught.”_

“Hemp, there’s one of them on Level Five going into the men’s bathroom. You have a chance in there,” said one of the pawns. Hemp nodded and followed the blonde-haired spy into the men’s bathroom. No one else was inside. Hemp took a silencer and connected it to his gun. 

Seconds later, the blonde-haired spy lay on the floor bleeding from the back of his head. Life slowly fading from his eyes before he could unzip his pants. 

“Confirmed kill,” Hemp’s deep voice came over the radio.

_“Of course, Brad is part our top kills tonight. We need to locate him and capture him. That’s it. No one is to touch him. That’s my brother’s personal target.”_

A motorcycle engine stopped. A pair of boots walked towards a building close proximity to the Vale. He was armed with guns, knives, and his bare hands. Other pairs of boots followed him. Each had their nicknames on their jackets. “Bones”, “Grunt”, and “Sour Mouth”. 

The first pair of boots reached the entrance of the building. His hands loaded his first pistol. His breath was heavy. His nostrils flared and his eyes were focused. His jacket read “Bastard King”. 

He was there. He was ready.

_“However, our main targets are Petyr Baelish and Lysa Arryn. Y/N and I will head into the Vale in disguise. Since Y/N knows where she’s going, I suspect she will know where Petyr is. If we find Petyr, we find Lysa.”_

Domeric and you entered the casino and resort. It was crawling with tourists, employees, and security. Before you could enter like the other guests, you entered into a queue where everyone needed to have their belongings and their person checked for weapons. You started to sweat.

_“I will be escorting Y/N into the building, and three other high ranking Red Kings will follow us. We need to make sure Y/N gets to Petyr and Lysa because she will be carrying mercury. I suspect they will have security checking every person who enters. She and I will act as a newly married couple. Security won’t take us seriously, so we’ll pass. Once we pass, so does the mercury.”_

Dom and you reach the front of the queue. You kiss him on the lips and giggle, hiding your nervousness of carrying a lethal poison. The security guard winks at Dom and lightly checks your bags and your person. He didn’t check your bra where the poison was hiding.

You and Dom pass by security and you lead the way to Petyr’s office where he would no doubt be up to something.

_“We will be using mercury to take them both out. When Y/N reaches Petyr and Lysa, we will have them inhale the mercury, thus killing them. Once we kill them both, we leave. No bullshitting around.”_

Charlotte stares at the screen watching your every move. Her eyes go from screen to screen keeping an eye out for anything.

“You jealous?” Yellow asked.

“No, why would I be jealous?” her eyes never straying from both of you.

“She kissed him. Y/N kissed him right on the mouth, and it looked like he enjoyed it,” Yellow smugly smiled. 

“Good. It convinced the lazy security guard,” Charlotte pressed a button and it switched to a Red King deposing a body. “I’m not jealous of Y/N.”

“She’s pretty,” Yellow teased.

“She is, but she doesn’t love Domeric,” Charlotte switched back to you and Domeric rushing to an elevator. You pressed one of the higher floors. “She’s in love with someone else.”

The elevator smelled of alcohol as per usual. You looked to Domeric, feeling the exact same as you when Ramsay took you along for his first hit.

“You’re doing great,” Domeric smiled. “Are you sure he’s in his office?”

“That’s where he does his scheming. He can watch over everyone from there. And if your spies are correct, he will most likely signing endless amounts of paperwork tying him to this property and any of Lysa’s assets.”

The doors opened, and you immediately felt a hand hit your head and cover your mouth. Your head rung in pain, sending you back. You felt tape go over your mouth fast. Your e/c eyes looked over to see Domeric struggling against two stronger men. 

“You’re coming with me,” your attacker grunted. Before he blindfolded you, Domeric was punched and knocked out. His attackers dragged him away before any of you could do anything about it. The cloth went over your eyes, and you felt being dragged away.

You were getting used to this feeling. Damn Boltons.

The attacker took you a room. That you were sure of. The room was temperature controlled and no one else was there. He sat you in a chair where he tied your hands together in front of you. Your ankles were tied to the chair as well, and that same rope was wrapped around your torso and the back of the chair.

You tried listening around for any other clue to where you were. You only heard echoes. Nothing else was in the room. Just you, your attacker, and the chair. This was planned out. Either Petyr knew you were coming or Petyr had been watching you this entire time. You couldn’t decide what was scarier.

The attacker left the room without any word of goodbye. The door slammed behind him leaving you alone in the room.

But you had hope. Ramsay was coming for you. He was bringing all of his men with him. He coming to save you. He told you that. He promised you that.

Then you thought of what happened. How Brad mocked and laughed at you when you looked to the door. Ramsay didn’t come then. What if he didn’t come now? 

The bad thoughts started to flood in. 

What if Ramsay wasn’t coming for you? What if his word meant nothing? Where had he been this entire time? Why didn’t he try to call you? Why didn’t he try at all? Where had he been? Did he even care about you? Did he care at all? Where was he? 

Where was he?

You listened to the door hoping for something or someone. You couldn’t scream. You couldn’t move much. The only thing you saw was the darkness of the blindfold. Not much to work with, but you did have your hands in front of you.

You started to feel around the knots and rope. You tugged and the rope connected to your ankles tightened. This was one long rope. You nodded your head, commending your attacker making efficient use of one long rope. You had to find one end of the rope. Once you did, you could untangle yourself from this. 

You felt your phone vibrate in your jeans. Your phone. Your fingers tried to reach your pocket as your phone still vibrated. The tension and restricted movement prevented you from reaching anything more than an inch away from you. 

You tried again. You’re not going to let this stop you. You had gotten this far. Your hand reached as far as it could.

You heard the door creak slowly open. A pair of feet walked across the room to you in silence. You sat straight up, but you felt chills run up your spine as if Death himself had walked into your presence.

“Well, well, well,” you could hear Brad’s disgusting smile in your ear. “Who do we have here?”


	23. Where Is She?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Music: Helicopter - Martin Garrix and Firebeatz (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ovDcLHa2L1o)
> 
> You may have noticed i posted 3 chapters at once. Yes, i did this on purpose. Happy New Year, you guys :)

_You tried again. You’re not going to let this stop you. You had gotten this far. Your hand reached as far as it could._

_You heard the door creak slowly open. A pair of feet walked across the room to you in silence. You sat straight up, but you felt chills run up your spine as if Death himself had walked into your presence._

_“Well, well, well,” you could hear Brad’s disgusting smile in your ear. “Who do we have here?”_

Charlotte kept on top of things in the “King’s Nest” they made for themselves. IT pawns hacked, typed away, and gave orders to Red Kings inside.

“How many?” she asked out loud.

“Seven confirmed kills, we’re trying to take our time. Security is heavy,” one of them answered her back. 

“Fine, can anyone give me eyes on Petyr Baelish and Lysa Arryn?” Charlotte walked towards the front where Yellow was. He shifted in his seat and pointed to the lower screens.

“They’re in Lysa’s room,” Yellow said. Her penthouse was covered in the finest things. Beautiful rugs from India, new furniture to match her needs, and big bouquets in vases that displayed beauty and wealth.

Charlotte narrowed her eyes on Petyr who was talking with a redhead. “That’s not Lysa. That’s Sansa. We need to inform Roose. We could capture her.”

“Capture her? You want to kidnap Sansa Stark? After the huge Stark Boys controversy? Don’t you remember who did the Red Wedding? It was us, Charlotte!”

“We get Sansa, we get Winterfell,” Charlotte said. “I want eyes on Lysa!”

“She’s heading up to her penthouse now,” a pawn answered. “She’s got four men with her. They’re armed and wearing vests.” 

“Where’s our nearest King to her?”

“That would be Poison and Lulu. They’re in the southern part of her resort and closest to her penthouse,” another pawn answered.

“Put them on route, but not to kill, only to watch,” Charlotte’s whipped back when she turned to the front again. Screens flipped and switched between cameras. She pressed her ear. “Dom, where are you? I don’t see you or Y/N.”

She heard nothing. 

“Dom, do you copy? Where are you?”

Again, she heard nothing. Charlotte looked at the live footage again and found several Red kings, but no signs of you or Domeric. 

“Yellow, give me a GPS location for Domeric and Y/N, now,” she said quietly. Yellow sat up and pulled up both of your markers. Charlotte peered at the screen.

“What the hell?” she said. The screen showed Domeric and you inside the VIP guest penthouse beside Lysa’s. Both of you were in separate rooms, but beside each other. “Wha-why? Wait. Yellow, show me footage at 5:45pm with Y/N and Dom.”

“They just passed security,” Yellow noted.

“Fast forward,” Charlotte said. Yellow clicked away finding the next time stamp of both of you.

“There. 5:50pm at the elevator.”

“And then?” Charlotte and Yellow watched the footage of both of you being subdued and taken. “Fuck.”

“Fuck indeed,” Yellow nodded. “What do we do now? We got Kings inside, but should we risk it?” 

Suddenly, a door burst open. Ramsay walked in with his men following him. Yellow Dick flinched and fell out of his chair. Charlotte stood her ground, watching her childhood friend stomp right up to her nose. He stood inches from her face.

“Where is she?” he asked.

“Hello to you, too,” she said flatly, not amused or scared by him. Ramsay narrowed his eyes.

“Don’t make me repeat it again,” he threatened. Charlotte stepped aside. 

“Yellow, tell him where she is,” they both looked down to see a frightened Yellow almost quivering on the ground. 

“Ram—

“Show me where,” his blue eyes scanned the screens for you until he saw the GPS trackers. “She’s inside the Vale? Captured?” Charlotte could feel his temper rising. Heat radiated off his skin. 

“It was your brother’s idea,” she told him.

“My brother’s idea was to get himself and my—Y/N captured?” his jaw became hard as a rock. His eyes were stern.

“Your what?” Charlotte smiled.

“Don’t toy with me. It’s complicated,” Ramsay spat in her face.

“It’s not.”

“It is.”

“It’s really not,” Charlotte pointed to the cameras. “Yellow can we have visual of the guest penthouse?”

“Yes and no,” Yellow crawled back up to his desk. “There is visual inside the penthouse, but not where we need it. They disabled the cameras where Dom and Y/N are.”

“Did you try to hack them?” Ramsay asked, focusing on your GPS tracker.

“We’ve tried, but I can try again,” Yellow’s fingers ran against his bald head. Keys started to click faster and faster. Red messages of DENIED kept showing up until one singular red message came across the screen.

Come catch the pretty bird before she flies away. 

“The fuck does that mean?” Ramsay cocked his eyebrow. “Yellow, give me recent footage of the penthouse.”

“But I can’t—

“Not where they are now, outside in the living space. Who’s there/ Give me eyes,” Ramsay stared at the screen.

The guest penthouse had a gold and red scheme to it. The heavy red curtains hung beautifully from their rods. Real fruit was placed in baskets while the grand windows were open to let in the air. The hardwood floors were too clean as if they had never seen a speck of dust in its life.

Security guards sat in the couches anxiously waiting for something to happen. Doors opened to a struggling Domeric, muffling through the tape. He tried to giving all his strength into escaping. 

“You were supposed to knock him out!” one of Petyr’s men said to the other. His grip tightened on the young man. 

“I tried!” the other shouted. “It’s like he’s made of rock! He’s hard to hit!” They dragged him to one of the set up rooms. Domeric’s arms and legs waved around and still attempted to escape while the door shut behind them all.

Next, you and your attacker came on the cameras. Ramsay’s face hardened again. You were compliant and he escorted you to your room.

“I hate this,” he mumbled. “They blindfolded her, taped her mouth shut. She doesn’t know where she is.” He watched your hands stay in front of you. Something clicked inside of his head. He scrambled in his pack for something.

“What are you doing?” Charlotte asked.

“She’s a smart girl,” Ramsay explained. “We’re watching this in the past which means she’s stuck in there now. She needs to know that I’m here.” Ramsay held his phone in his hand and began typing away furiously.

“You’re going to text her?” Charlotte almost laughed. “Her hands are literally tied in there. They have her hostage.”

“Exactly,” Ramsay said quickly. “A while ago, she set my ringtone apart from everyone else’s. It doesn’t matter what I say, only that she hears me. That’s how she’ll know.” Ramsay hit send on the text message. 

“Oh fuck,” Yellow watched the footage. Everyone’s eyes went back to the screen. Brad walked across the room and nodded his head to the security guards. 

“Is she in there?” he asked.

“All ready for you,” one of them laughed. Brad laughed with them, and put his hand on the doorknob. 

“Good, I expect she and I will have so much fun,” he smiled. Ramsay slammed his hands down on the console.

“The fuck you won’t!” Ramsay turned and started to leave and took an earpiece with him. “Yellow, maintain visual. Bones, get me inside. Grunt, take down anyone that gets in my way. Charlotte, come with us.”

“This isn’t the plan,” Charlotte ran after him, grabbing weapons from Ben. 

“Domeric’s plan was fucked anyways,” Ramsay told her. He handed her a knife. “My plan is much better.”  
“What exactly is your plan?” Charlotte asked him as they exited the building. Ramsay smirked and looked to the Vale.

“I’m going to bring Hell to them.” Ramsay pressed his ear piece. “Forget what my brother told you. Bring chaos to them. Kill every Lannister you find, but leave Brad and Petyr to me.”


	24. Salvation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year everyone! Woo! Well, I started off this year the best way I could. I threw up in a friend's toilet multiple times! (Don't get too drunk too fast, kids. Take your time.)
> 
> Anyways, as you can see, this is the second to last chapter of Bang Bang! I know a lot of you have really adored, admired, and praised this series. As it comes to a close, I just want to thank all of you for making this series fun for me to write. I'll say more when i publish the last chapter.
> 
> BUT WAIT THERE'S MORE:
> 
> Most of you know i have a tumblr. Now, you don't have to follow me on there, but I will be posting extra stuff when I publish the last chapter. I will be publishing: the entire playlist that inspired Bang Bang!, a masterlist which will contain links to each chapter both on here and tumblr, and I've been considering a post on some sort of commentary on each chapter. ( https://crowkingwrites.tumblr.com/ ) 
> 
> Please enjoy! And as always, if any of you have any comments, questions, or concerns, let me know.
> 
> Music: Welcome to the Doghouse – Kayzo (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yW0LtUPto5k )

_“Domeric’s plan was fucked anyways,” Ramsay told her. He handed her a knife. “My plan is much better.”_

_“What exactly is your plan?” Charlotte asked him as they exited the building. Ramsay smirked and looked to the Vale._

_“I’m going to bring Hell to them.” Ramsay pressed his ear piece. “Forget what my brother told you. Bring chaos to them. Kill every Lannister you find, but leave Brad and Petyr to me.”_

Brad circled you. You could hear his footsteps walk around you. You wished you could speak. You wished you could scream. The odor of his cologne wafted into your nose. He smelled awful. Your nose wrinkled. Brad laughed.

“Aw, you figured out it was me,” he said. Keys jingled at his side. Why would he would keys if you were tied down with rope? The Vale had perfect card keys to get into different rooms. Your ears were your only tool to escape now.

Brad put his hands on your shoulders. You flinched sharply, and his mouth bent down to your ear. “There’s so much to talk about.”

You listened around the room to catch any other noises. Your phone stopped vibrating when brad came in. Luckily for you, he didn’t catch it.

“I have missed you so much. What has it been? 48 hours now? Where did my pretty bird go?” You couldn’t see him, but you could feel his eyes on you. “Off with Charlotte? You know, she’s a Red King right? Of course you do. You’re not stupid, Y/N. I never thought you were. I knew that from the first time I saw you.

“You were gorgeous that night. I’ll never forget that dress. I’ll never forget that pure confidence and lust that was dripping from you. I didn’t care if you were with him. You were mine since the moment I saw you, pretty bird.”

Chills went up down your spine when you heard his words. You knew how good you were at your job, but you never wanted to be this good. You never wanted anyone to want you this bad. You thought of Ramsay. He wanted you so badly that he killed other men just to have you to himself. 

Mr. Kress and Brad were two vastly different men. Mr. Kress was older, fatter, and married. Brad was younger, more fit, and fun. Both of them practically risked everything of theirs to have you. You hated it, but was it any different from what Ramsay did?

Ramsay was unpredictable, violent, and a professional assassin. He was the best liar out of the three men. He murdered people and enjoyed it. He enjoyed their misery and suffering. When you watched him torture Theon, you watched the wicked smile on his face as his knife contacted Theon’s skin. He was the scariest man you ever met, so why was he so different?

“Maybe I love you,” Brad continued. “Maybe I love you too much. Is that why I’m doing this? Taking you, tying you up, letting you wonder where you are. That doesn’t matter now. What matters is that your plan with the Red Kings has failed. Petyr knows. He knows everything about you and your little friend Charlotte. 

“Petyr’s had enough with you. At first, he was angry. I watched him pace the room. He wanted to kill you. To get rid of you. He couldn’t have one of his pretty birds expose him, but I convinced him not to. I told him about us. I told him about that night. I showed him the tape. And guess what? He loved it. He thought of the revenue you could bring in. He’s going to release it.”

You couldn’t believe what he was saying. You started to struggle against the ropes out of frustration. You did nothing but follow Petyr’s orders. You claimed Ramsay’s trust and told Petyr his secrets. You took on every client Petyr gave you without complaint. You never lied to Petyr ever, and here he was about to kill you. 

“So we made a trade. I gave Petyr the tape, and he gave me you. Do you understand, Y/N? You’re mine,” Brad removed your blindfold. You could see into his light eyes. His face was shaven and his button up shirt showed his chest. His face so close to yours that you were sharing the air you breathed.

The room was empty as you thought. Large windows behind you captured the beauty of the city at sunset. Not much else was in the room except another table with two chairs about ten feet from you. Brad grabbed your cheeks and faced you to him.

“So, you see,” Brad held up a signed contract in front of your face. “You’re legally mine.” You couldn’t read the entire thing, but you did see Brad’s and Petyr’s signatures at the bottom. Petyr traded you away like a slave. No, he did trade you away as a slave. A sex slave to Brad. You were his now. 

Brad caressed your face and hummed contently. “I told you I was going to make you mine, didn’t I? And we get to be together for—

Your phone vibrated again. Brad looked down to your jeans and both you watched your phone vibrate. You mumbled through the tape, but Brad couldn’t understand a thing you were saying. He went into your pocket and grabbed your phone. Before he could answer it, you saw the name flashing.

Ramsay Bolton.

Your heart almost flew out of your chest. You struggled against the ropes again. The chair rocked back and forth. Brad answered the phone and put it on speaker.

“Hello, Mr, Bolton,” Brad smugly smiled. “How are you this evening?”

“Lovely, and you Mr. Swyft?” hearing Ramsay’s voice brought on the same calmness you felt last time.

“Just fine,” Brad walked away, putting his hand on one of the chairs by the table. “Did you receive my video?”

“I did.”

“Did you like it?” Brad dragged the chair to you. He sat down and kept the phone between both of you. “Did you like watching me defile your favorite flower?”

“You must think you’re some king, Brad. You found out some major plans, rallied up some people, and told someone else with power. That doesn’t make you a king. It makes you a snitch. No one likes a snitch.”

“May I remind you who you are, bastard? Your father doesn’t consider you a king either. It’s pretty obvious who your father favors.” 

“You think I live my life based on who my father favors?” Ramsay laughed. “You must be joking. You don’t know me.”

“I know you love her,” Brad quickly said. You heard nothing from Ramsay. “I know that she’s the most precious thing to you. You wouldn’t have hired me to protect and watch over her if you hadn’t. I fucked her. Do you know that? Before I raped her, I fucked her over and over again, and guess what, bastard? She liked it.”

You heard silence from the phone again. Brad smiled, thinking he won the vocal exchange.

“You’re a fucking idiot, Brad. She’s paid to enjoy it. That’s her job,” Ramsay said flatly. “If you think you have the happy ending here, you haven’t been paying attention. We just murdered all of your friends. All of your friends are dead. Who do you think is next, Brad?”

“You can’t get to me,” Brad said confidently.

“I got to Theon Greyjoy. I got to several of the sloppy squids and I destroyed them. I got you your uncle. He pissed himself when he saw me. I’m a predator, Bradley, and I’m very good at it. Before you say anything else smart, I suggest you let her go.”

“No,” Brad stood up. “I signed a contract with Petyr. She’s mine now. She’s legally mine.”

“Don’t make me repeat myself,” you heard his voice grow darker. “Let. Her. Go. I’m a merciful man. Do it and I may even let you live.”

“Come and try me, bastard,” Brad laughed. You heard a delightful sigh over the phone. You cocked your brow and looked at Brad. He was just as confused as you.

“I was hoping you would say that,” Ramsay said. “But before I come in, button up your shirt, you look like a douchebag.” The phone hung up. Brad looked to the windows.

“Wha-I-that fucker was watching me?” Brad scanned the windows to see if there was a loophole, an opening, something. His hands banged on the glass, making a loud thud on the glass. “Where the fuck are you, you shit? Huh?!”

A tense silence came over the room, and you couldn’t be anymore delighted. He was coming. You let a smile wash over your face, but suddenly you felt a burning smack across it. 

“You think this is funny?” Brad shouted at you. He smacked you in the head again. The burning pain on your left side hurt, but it didn’t matter. He was coming. Your eyes smiled. Brad frowned even more. “Fucking stop that.”

He took his fist and wailed on your face three times, hoping it would make you stop. You head hung low, but you tilted your head up. Your face was red, and your head hurt like hell, but you still smiled. Brad ripped off the tape from your mouth. Your mouth was bleeding, but you still smiled at him.

It took a couple of moments, but you felt it in your chest. It rose through your throat and came out of your mouth. Your laughter reached Brad’s ears and it didn’t stop. He stepped back from you.

“You’re so fucked!” you laughed louder than you have in weeks. Brad grabbed your laughing face and put his hand over your mouth.

“Shut the fuck up,” he told you. You watched one of his hands twitch. He took your chair and threw it to the ground. Your body hit the floor hard. It knocked out a bit of your vision, but you still smiled, but not at Brad.

Ramsay stood in the doorway watching Brad trying to compose himself. He raised no guns. His hands didn’t hold any bombs or throwing knives. He waited there with that same smirk on his face. Brad noticed the silence in the room. It was too quiet. He turned around to see the Bloody Bastard himself.

“Shit,” his lips quietly let out. Ramsay didn’t move. He just watched Brad step back a few times. “Are you gonna kill me?”

“No,” Ramsay smiled. “I’m going to do something much worse.”

Ramsay’s hidden daggers came from his sleeves, each blade identical to the other. They were clean. They were sharp. They were hungry. Ramsay’s smirk grew from ear to ear. You watched his eyes go from delighted to excited as if he was a hungry mutt looking at carnage. He looked to you on the ground.

“Tell me where,” he tenderly told you.

“I want his cock gone,” you watched Brad wince.

Before Brad could say a word, Ramsay took his blades and started to stab him in his sides, bringing him pain. Brad haphazardly took out his gun and tried to point it at Ramsay. Ramsay grabbed Brad’s arm and stuck his dagger into it, twisting the dagger slightly. Brad screamed in pain, dropping the gun.

Brad fell to the ground, gun out of his hand. It slid across the floor, closer to you than to the boys. Ramsay put a hand and his weight on Brad’s stomach. His hidden dagger sunk into Brad’s pants which earned both of you more screaming and grunting from Brad. You watched his face go red, veins popping out of his head. 

Ramsay took the dagger out and plunged it in again. He repeated it three times until you saw his bloody hand throw Brad’s genitals behind him. Ramsay stood up and watched Brad twitch in pain. Tears came down from his eyes. 

Ramsay looked to you and started to walk towards you. His hands made a move and the hidden daggers when back into their place. Brad saw this and grabbed Ramsay by his ankle. Ramsay turned his back and fell to the floor. Brad swallowed his pain, and crawled on top of Ramsay. He started to punch him in his face repeatedly. 

Ramsay struggled to get his hidden blades out again. Brad’s fists connected to Ramsay’s nose, cheeks, and mouth over and over. Ramsay stretched out one of his arms and flicked his wrist. The hidden blade revealed itself and Ramsay plunged it into his stomach. He threw his body off of his own.

Ramsay stood over him. Blood had bled from his nose down his lips and past his chin. The bright red liquid stained his white collared shirt. Ramsay caught his breath and looked at Brad and then to you. His eyes softened and he made his way to you. His hands made quick work at untying you from your ankles to your torso and then your hands.

The rope loosened and you felt like you could breathe again. You stood up from the chair and looked into Ramsay’s eyes. He put his hands into your hair, letting them touch every strand he could. His lips crashed into yours, not letting you breathe for a moment more. You grabbed onto Ramsay’s shirt, gripping it tight. You needed to touch him. You needed to know he was actually here.

You returned his kiss with your own. You moved against each other aggressively without letting the other one breathe. He felt so good. You smelled him and you let his tongue go into your mouth. It felt like an eternity kissing him, but it felt like forever without him. 

He let go first, letting his forehead rest against yours. His hands at the sides of your head. His thumbs still tangled in your hair. You could barely open your eyes. 

“Y/N,” he said quietly. “I’m here.”

“You’re here,” you opened your eyes more. Your eyes looked over him, touching him more and more. Your fingers traced his arms and chest. Your eyebrows knitted when you saw the damage done to his face. Ramsay looked over your body and saw the bruises, the marks left by Brad, and the bleeding on your face.

“You’re both doomed,” you both heard Brad say. 

“He’s still alive,” you muttered. Brad stood up, swallowing his pain again. His gun secured in his hand. He pointed it at your head. Ramsay put himself in front of you. 

“Petyr knows about all of this,” Brad twirled the gun around in the air. “You both won’t make it out alive.” You grabbed onto Ramsay’s arm.

“You’re going to make threats? With that little thing? You don’t even have a cock,” Ramsay shrugged. 

“Haven’t you heard the phrase, ‘Don’t bring a gun to knife fight’?” Brad struggled to say as he put his hand on the chair. His legs wobbled. Ramsay flicked his wrists again. Brad shot the gun and Ramsay threw both of you to the ground. You took one of Ramsay’s dagger from his side and went for Brad.

You screamed as you plunged the knife into Brad’s stomach. You brought him down on his back. He moaned from the pain, but you couldn’t stop there. You dragged the knife across his belly, slicing his stomach open. Yu threw the knife to the side and plunged your side inside. Brad looked at you in horror. He felt your hands grab his organs. Life was fading from his eyes, he was losing too much blood too fast.

“Give the Devil my regards,” you smiled as you pulled out his insides. You ripped into him grabbing what you could pulling them outside his body for the world to see. You wear tearing this monster apart. Ramsay grabbed you from behind and dragged you away from Brad’s body.

You looked around to see intestines and guts everywhere. The bits stained the floor with red blood. Your hands were covered in thick blood. You caught your breath and realized what you had done. 

“You slaughtered him,” Ramsay said to you. He held you tight. “Are you alright?”

The feeling washed over you again. It rose from your chest and throat and your laughter sent you back into Ramsay. You let the joy wash over you. Brad would never torture you again. He would never touch you again. You destroyed him.

“Y/N? Are you alright?” Ramsay asked you again. He looked over you in concern. “Did he hit you that hard?”

“Yes, but I feel amazing,” you looked at Ramsay with wide eyes. Something clicked inside of you. “I feel good.” You looked at your hands with new feelings of pleasure.

“You-you enjoyed that?” Ramsay started to smile. 

“I loved that,” you returned the smile and kissed him again. The blood on your hands touched his face. The blood from his nose touched your face. You felt saliva and blood mix together in your mouths and it felt good. Ramsay grabbed you tighter and he smiled into the kiss. 

Both of laughed as you let go of one another. You heard noises from Ramsay’s earpiece.

“I got her,” he smiled, looking at you. “Brad Swyft is dead. Pretty Bird is safe. I got her and I’m never leaving her again.” You hugged Ramsay, but then you remembered his words and you loosened your grip.

“Where were you?” you said into his shoulder. “Where have you been?” Ramsay bit his lip.

“Vegas and Chicago.” You felt like hitting him.

“You were in Vegas?” you said angrily. 

“Who do you think killed your clients?” Ramsay half-smiled at you. “I couldn’t have my girl with other men.”

“You never called. You never even tried to contact me.”

“I couldn’t.”

“Why?” you shouted at him, pushing him away from you. “Because of a restraining order? When the hell did you start following the rules?”

“I had to. He threatened me.”

“You’re afraid of Petyr? That’s a fucking joke.” Ramsay grabbed your arm. 

“No, not Petyr. My father. I pulled a pretty risk there killing Mr. Kress and a couple of the Frey Brothers. He was tired of me fucking around. He was tired of me being distracted by you. He said if I disobeyed the restraining order. If I even message you, he would kill you himself.”

You let the words wash over you. It all made sense now. Why he hired Brad. Why he killed other men around you. Why he never contacted you. Ramsay held onto your arm.

“I know you’re mad, but I had to. I couldn’t lose you. Not again,” his grip tightened on you. “You’re important to me. You’re—

“I love you,” you said. You had to say it out loud. He was a violent storm. He was incredibly intimidating, but you knew how you felt. You felt like this for a long time. You never believed in love for yourself. Girls like you weren’t supposed to fall in love, but you were caught in a storm. 

Ramsay blinked and looked at you. “No, that’s—

“I love you,” you repeated. Ramsay started to smile at you. He kissed your forehead and your cheek and your eye and your lips and your forehead again. He couldn’t stop kissing you.

“I love you too,” he said softly, inches from your face. “I love you madly.”

“Never leave me,’ you asked him. Ramsay nodded his head, his eyes closed.

“I promise,” he grabbed your hand. Both of you were caked in blood, but you stood there in silence. Ramsay’s and your earpiece beeped.

“Both of you need to get out of there,” Yellow said into your ears. “Security is onto us. They found out we hacked the cameras. We’re working on hacking them again.”

“Copy,” Ramsay said. “I know you don’t like me taking you on surprise missions, but would you join me for one more?” He half-smiled at you, handing you Brad’s gun and one of his knives.

“Who’s the unlucky bastard?” you asked with a smile, knowing fully well who it was. 

“Unfortunately, it’s your boss, Mr. Petyr Baelish,” Ramsay held out his hand to you. You took it and both of you left the room, leaving Brad’s body for someone else to discover. You felt an electric energy within you, and it grew like hunger. Petyr’s days were numbered.


	25. She Falls

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here we are. The last chapter of Bang Bang! It has been a riiiide. First and foremost, I want to thank you guys. This is the first big series I ever finished and you have read it all! Thank you for the kudos and the comments. Secondly, i wanna thank my friends who have helped me make some big decisions regarding Bang Bang! Good writer friends help out so much.
> 
> The complete Bang Bang! playlist on tumblr here ( https://crowkingwrites.tumblr.com/post/169295896593/bang-bang-complete-music-playlist )
> 
> Again, thank you for reading. If you have any comments, questions or concerns please let me know. Enjoy the last chapter.
> 
> -CrowKing

_“Both of you need to get out of there,” Yellow said into your ears. “Security is onto us. They found out we hacked the cameras. We’re working on hacking them again.”_

_“Copy,” Ramsay said. “I know you don’t like me taking you on surprise missions, but would you join me for one more?” He half-smiled at you, handing you Brad’s gun and one of his knives._

_“Who’s the unlucky bastard?” you asked with a smile, knowing fully well who it was._

“Unfortunately, it’s your boss, Mr. Petyr Baelish,” Ramsay held out his hand to you. You took it and both of you left the room, leaving Brad’s body for someone else to discover. You felt an electric energy within you, and it grew like hunger. Petyr’s days were numbered.

Yellow didn’t grow up with the Boltons like many of the Bastard’s Boys. He had joined the after he was kicked out of his own house when he turned 18.He had gotten along with Ben and Grunt quite well, and Domeric too. However, Yellow was always scared of Ramsay.

Domeric wanted all the boys to go out after a successful mission. Yellow was excited to go out for the first time with his new family of savages. He had never spent time with Ramsay before and he was curious to see how the younger brother ticked. 

A young lady came up to Yellow at the club they were at. She was beautiful. Long blonde hair, brown eyes that he found himself sinking into deeper and deeper like a warm bath. Yellow placed his finger under her chin and kissed her cheek. She was nice. 

Out of nowhere, Yellow felt a burning pain in the back of his head. “She was mine!” He heard Ramsay yell at him. That’s not what scared him. What scared yellow is the look on the young lady’s face. She was clearly uncomfortable with Ramsay’s presence. She looked at Ramsay much like a child looks at the dentist putting a drill near their mouth.

He had seen what Ramsay can do to people. He had seen what Ramsay was capable of. Yellow watched one of Ramsay’s exes run out his apartment crying with a cut on her arm. He had felt bad for her and called her an Uber home. So when Yellow received the video he knew of only one person to go to.

“Roose, this is bad,” Yellow showed him the video. He could hear Y/N’s fading whimpers in the background. Roose shifted in his seat.

“I told him to stay away from the bird,” Roose said concerned. He picked up his phone on his desk. “Excuse me, I have to make a phone call.”

“Wait!” Yellow held his hand out. “I know what you think this is, it’s not. I’ve tracked Ramsay’s texts and phone calls like you told me to. He hasn’t spoken or come in contact with her since the incident at the hotel. He’s done exactly what you told him to do.”

“So, why show me this?” Roose asked. His hand paused the video and stared at Yellow. Yellow looked at Roose’s well-fitted suit. His shoes were made of fine leather, and each crease was pressed and primed. Yellow, who always wore his beanie and jeans wherever he went, scratched an itch on his shoulder.

“Brad Swyft has found out our plans with the Lannister spies should the Lannisters betray us. He’s using this girl to get to Ramsay. I think he means to get a rise out of him, so Ramsay can come at him.”

“Smart man,” Roose half-smiled. “But, we’re well-prepared. Is he the only one?”

“He seems to be their leader, yes. No other Lannister spy has done this, but I suspect others are following him,” Yellow closed his laptop on Roose’s desk

“Disregard who we have on the waitlist,” Roose ordered. “Make Brad your priority. Along with Petyr Baelish and Lysa Arryn.”

“Why them?” Yellow asked. Roose stood from his desk and started to escort Yellow out of his office.

“Petyr Baelish is in this game for himself. He’s brought a lot of trouble to us. Even though that dwarf is being blamed for Joffery’s death, we know better. Petyr will use Lysa to his advantage and take everything she owns. He’s not playing the game to survive like us, Yellow. Petyr is playing this game to win, and I don’t intend to lose to him.”

“You mean to say he’s a threat to us? I thought we were looking to keep an alliance with him?” Yelow clutched onto his bag nervously.

“Yes and no,” Roose opened the door for him. “Like I said, Petyr is playing this game for himself. Who truly knows what his intentions are? I don’t need to know. I don’t need to find out. I need him gone before he can cause more chaos.”

Yellow nodded his head. He turned to close the door behind him.

“Yellow,” Roose called after him. Yellow took a last look at Roose. Roose sighed before he spoke. “That video. Don’t show it to Ramsay. Whatever you do, do not show it to Ramsay. You know how he is with girls. I don’t need more chaos especially with one of Petyr’s little birds.”

Yellow had met Ramsay’s girlfriends. He had seen them crying. He had seen them terrified, intimidated, and scared. He comforted some of them and even dated one of them after a bad breakup. He knew you would be broken and fucked up somehow.

Then Yellow saw Ramsay and you holding hands exiting the luxurious suite. Both of you were covered in blood and laughing. Ramsay kissed your face. His lips tasting the drying blood on your cheek. Yellow’s eyebrows went up.

“Hey,’ he radioed Ramsay. “Are you guys okay?”

“Didn’t you hear me, you idiot?” Ramsay smiled, looking at you. “Brad Swyft is dead. My pretty bird pecked out his insides and left him to rot in her nest.” Yellow saw something happen on the cameras. Something he never saw before. Ramsay smiled at his lovers like monsters smile at their prey before they eat them, but now. Yellow watched Ramsay’s smile turn into something proudly sinister. Ramsay smiled at you like you were his equal.

Out of curiosity, Yellow turned the cameras to you. Beneath the blood, he saw the beauty. He saw your e/c eyes and your h/c hair. He saw how your clothes fit you and how beautiful you were. Until he saw you smile back. It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen a girl smile before. He just hadn’t seen a girl smile so happily at someone like Ramsay covered in blood.

Yellow’s stomach started to churn.

“Tell us where he is, Yellow,” Ramsay radioed in. “Where’s Baelish?” Yellow pressed the button on his radio slowly and breathed out calmly.

“He’s disappeared into Lysa’s suite somewhere. Lysa is in the suite now with Sansa Stark. You’re going to need to take down her security team,” he explained still fascinated by you. Yellow watched you take Ramsay’s hand and lead the way.

“Yel, are you alright?” one of the pawns asked him. Yellow’s eyes never left the camera. His head started to shake. Yellow looked at his keys and decided to hack the guesthouse suite cameras one more time privately. He made quick work, and brought the cameras up on his personal laptop. 

The security guards lay completely still in odd positions. Signs of struggle were everywhere, but there, spread across the floor, was Brad’s insides. His body had a major pool of blood around it while his innards and guts were spread across the floor like a kindergarten finger painting.

“She’s not like the others,” he said breathless, eyes wide. “She’s much worse.”

In the hallways of the Vale, you held onto Ramsay’s hand tight leading the way towards Lysa’s personal suite. You had never felt so free in your entire life. You had never felt so dangerous. 

“Slow down, darling,” Ramsay warned. You should listen to him, but there was an energy inside of you that released. You wanted more. “I mean it, slow down now.” 

He pulled you back more behind a corner. You couldn’t control the smile on your face. He placed a finger over his mouth. You inhaled and exhaled, and it slowed you down slightly. He nodded and pressed the button in his ear.  
“Yellow, how many men does she have?” 

“She’s got three at the door,” Yellow responded. “Two at the door, one hiding. Whoever’s handling her security detail is smart. Don’t underestimate them.” You nodded, but then your eyes wandered away from Ramsay’s to see the service elevator door. You tugged onto Ramsay’s shirt and nodded your head towards the door.

“What do you have cooking in your head there, pretty bird?” he asked.

“Lysa has a private elevator that goes inside her suite. It opens into her kitchen. She never goes in there, only her chefs and butlers do. I bet they’re all gone for the evening so—

“—we’ll avoid detection and her team if we use that,” Ramsay finished your sentence. “How do we know her tea isn’t already watching the elevators?”

“We don’t,” you smiled. 

“Oh, now you’re willing to take risks with me now,” Ramsay’s flirtatious smile turned sour when he heard footsteps coming your way. He grabbed you and both of slipped just inside the service elevator door as the hidden third guard patrolled the hallway. Ramsay put his hand over your mouth to silence your heavy breathing. The third guard looked around and saw no one in sight. He continued on his patrol, and Ramsay let you go. “Lead the way.”

After going down to the service levels, the elevator doors opened to a mess of busy people going to and fro. One maid stopped her cart short when she saw both of you. You confidently grabbed a towel and handed it to Ramsay.

“Murder mystery show!” you said excitedly. “We just died.” You winked at the maid and laughed. She nodded with a smile and went on her way.

“Murder mystery show?” Ramsay chuckled.

“It worked didn’t it? Clean yourself off,” you said while wiping yourself off as well. 

“I’ve forgotten how quick you are,” Ramsay threw the stained towel into another maid’s cart. Both of you snaked through the maids and other service workers. “When I introduce you to my father, remind me to tell him about this part.”

You shook your head smiling, thinking about your future with Ramsay. Would you assist him with missions? Where would you live? You could wake up next to him every single morning, and that thought pushed you further forward. 

The private elevator had zero guards in front of it, but there was a code key that took a four digit code.

“Hey dickhead,” Ramsay said. Before Ramsay could insult him more, you both heard three beeps and a green light flashed. The elevator opened and you stepped inside. It covered in mirrors and you saw yourself for the first time in what seemed like forever. Your hair was wild. Your eyes even more so. Patches of dried blood lay crusted on your skin, and you saw the torn pieces of clothing.

You were a wonderful, delicious mess. You loved it. You saw Ramsay’s mostly clean face and ran your fingers through his hair. His eyes looked to you and around the room. He was listening. He slowly took out his gun and pushed you back. 

Suddenly, a guard dropped from an opening of the elevator. Ramsay shot him in the head twice before he fell to the ground. Your back almost cemented to the wall. Ramsay sniffed and held his hand out to you.

“Come here,” he said and you took his hand. Ramsay went into the guard’s clothes and pulled out a gun. “Take this. He doesn’t need it anymore.”

“How did you know?”

“Petyr’s not stupid. I assume he put his own men in security. He wouldn’t leave this elevator with just a code. He needed someone else looking after it. We need to be careful,” Ramsay handed you the man’s coat and wrapped it around you. Ramsay pressed the emergency button and the elevator stopped just above the final floor. “I can get the door open manually, but you need to get in there first understand?”

You nodded and watched Ramsay go to work on the doors. You felt the energy rise up in you again. The slow boiling bubbles heated in your stomach and rose your throat and mouth. Your heart beat faster and faster. This was really happening. Petyr was going to die.

You thought of Vanessa who has been betrayed and physically abused by Petyr’s hands. You thought of Olyvar’s ignored depression and all the things he had forced you and the favorites to do. You remembered how Ros had died. You remembered that she was murdered. You remembered how Petyr carelessly let Mr. Kress get to you. You remembered how Petyr sold you away to Brad, like a slave. 

You let that anger simmer inside of you, and then you remembered Sansa.

“Ramsay,” you called out to him. He just opened the doors. You could see half the kitchen from where you stood.

“Yes? What’s wrong?” Ramsay asked, in a rushed tone.

“We have to save her.”

“Who?”

“Sansa Stark,” you said.

“No,” Ramsay shook his head.

“Ramsay please—

“No, no, no, no, no,” he went on. “Y/N, I make money, but killing people, not saving them. I’m not a hero.”

“She’s being hunted down by Cersei! She could die!” you said. Ramsay grabbed you by the waist and put you in front of him. 

“Then she will have a very lovely family reunion with her perfect little family in heaven,” Ramsay lifted you and pushed you through the hole. You turned around and glared at him.

“Sansa is innocent,” you said.

“I don’t care about Sansa,” Ramsay argued. “Go find Petyr!”

“I’m not leaving here until you promise that we take Sansa with us,” you loudly whispered. Ramsay put his face in his hand sand groaned.

“She has a point,” Charlotte chimed in with the radio.

“Of course you would take her side!” Ramsay groaned. “Where are you?”

“Outside on the rooftop,” you heard Domeric. You felt relief go through your body. “Y/N, I’m sorry our plan didn’t work out.”

“I forgive you,” you said. “I’m glad to know that you’re okay. Did you say rooftop?”

“Yes,” Domeric chuckled. “Charlotte’s very resourceful. She figured both of you could handle whatever happened in the guesthouse suite, so she came from the rooftop down to the window. Kicked it in grabbed me and now she’s about to steal a helicopter.”

“She’s going to hijack a helicopter? She doesn’t even know how to fly,” Ramsay said flatly.

“I know more than you, bastard,” Charlotte grunted. “My point is, Petyr is weirdly attached to Sansa. I noticed that at the last meeting Y/N were at. He seems to care less about his birds and more about Sansa’s safety. Find Sansa and you find Petyr.”

You smiled at Ramsay. He rolled his eyes.

“Fine,” he gave up. “If we can save her, we’ll save her. If we can’t, we ditch her, understand?” You nodded. 

The kitchen itself had been empty of anything homey. No pictures of family or friends on the fridge. No stains on any part of the counter. The floor and space was completely clean like a five star restaurant. You tip toed your way around watching and listening for any sign of anything. 

You reached the dimly lit hallway and you started to hear an argument from the living room. You turned and waved Ramsay to come forward. The argument in the hallway became louder. The more you listened, the more you could figure it out. It was two women. One of them was incredibly angry with the other. The other was scared. 

You made yourself small against the wall and floor. You peeked into the living room to see her pushing her against the wall. Lysa’s hands gripped Sansa tight. She took her and slammed her against the wall again, screaming in her face.

“You love him, don’t you, you dirty whore!” she screamed over and over in her face. Sans’as face grew red from crying. You felt your heart breaking. She already trusted you enough to tell you about Joffery. You couldn’t watch her go through more abuse. Lysa slapped her across the face hard enough for you to hear the echo in the room.

You felt the barrel of the gun in your fingers. The energy rose up inside you again. The hunger expanded into your arm. You didn’t even notice you were aiming the gun at her until seconds later. 

“What are you doing?” Ramsay whispered.

“She’s on the list too,” you told him. You weren’t lowering the gun. You were going to do it. Until, Lysa pulled Sansa back, but this time she pushed her onto the balcony. You felt your stomach drop. ‘She’s going to kill her.” You muttered and you ducked behind the couch in the living room. Ramsay stayed behind, but you heard him over your radio.

“We located Lysa Arryn. She’s arguing with Sansa on the balcony. They’re in a struggle. No sign of Baelish. Y/N is covering the living room. I’m about to check the other rooms.” You watched him slip into the darker hallway. Your eyes flashed back to the balcony. 

Lysa threw vases at Sansa. “How could you do this to me? To me? Your aunt?” Another vase went towards Sansa, and she dodged it.

“Please stop!” she screamed.

‘Dirty whore!’ Lysa continued. You silently kept moving forward from one hiding pot to the next. You kept both hands on your gun. It felt smooth in your hands like a powerful secret only you knew about. You would save Sansa from these monsters. You would return her to her home. Someone needed a happy ending from everything that happened. 

You made yourself like a fly on the wall and watched Lysa. Her fingers stretched out to Sansa’s chest. They wrapped themselves around her like claws. She put Sansa against the balcony rail and shook her. Sansa’s back was dangerously close to the edge.  
You felt fingers on your shoulder. You almost jumped, but Ramsay covered your mouth preventing you from making any noise.

“Petyr’s nowhere on the east side of the suite. Yellow do we have eyes yet?” Ramsay whispered, watching the balcony scene unfold before you. 

“Hawk and I are working on it,” Yellow reported. “Jack Jack reported in. He got rid of the men in the security camera room. We’ll have eyes everywhere soon.”

“Make it quick,” Dom said. “We’re almost done with the helicopter.” Lysa pushed Sansa against the balcony rail again. This time Lysa had her hands on her wrists.

“You’re a stupid little bird! Just like the rest of those whores!”Lysa screamed. Lysa pushed farther. Sansa’s back arched over the edge. Sansa whimpered. You felt yourself move forward, but Ramsay held you back.

“We have eyes! Petyr’s in the hallway heading to the living room” Yellow warned. Ramsay wrapped one arm around you, keeping an eye on the opposite hallway while moving you both backwards, hiding you from sight. You watched in horror as Lysa pushed Sansa closer and closer over the edge of the railing. Tears streamed down her face.

You struggled against Ramsay’s hold on you. “She’s going to die.”

“Don’t,” Ramsay held you tight, he spoke in your ear. “Don’t be a hero, Y/N. These people don’t deserve heroes.”

Lysa held Sansa’s life in the balance. Sansa looked down and then back up to her aunt.

“Aunt Lysa please!” Sansa cried out. “Please! Don’t! I’m so scared! Please!”

“What’s going on?” you heard a voice yell. Petyr walked onto the balcony without noticing you or Ramsay. Ramsay took out his gun and aimed it at Petyr.

“Petyr’s on the balcony,” Yellow reported.

“I see him.” Ramsay quickly said. You rose your gun as well, aiming it at Petyr’s head.

“So do I,” you muttered. Petyr pulled Lysa away from Sansa, and closer to him. Sansa collapsed to the ground, crying her eyes out. Petyr pulled Lysa into an embrace. 

“What are you doing, silly thing?” Petyr smiled down at her. She looked up to him like a child would look to the stars. He rubbed her back in circles to comfort her.

“Y/N, you have a better shot, kill him,” Ramsay said into your ear. With both hands you took the gun and aimed it as best as you could at Petyr. It wasn’t a perfect shot. You could only get to a half of him.  
“Oh my poor, sweet wife,” Petyr held her close. Lysa sobbed into his chest and then she looked up to him again, tears coming down her wrinkled cheeks. “I have only loved one woman. Only one. My entire life.”

Lysa smiled at Petyr looking deep into his eyes. Petyr’s face stood completely serious. Petyr grabbed Lysa by her shoulders, her back against the balcony rail.

“Your sister,” Petyr hissed as he pushed Lysa over the edge of the rail. You watched her body disappear from your view and you sat there with your mouth open at the scene. 

You heard Yellow Dick first. “Wha—Did you guys

“What happened?” Domeric said.

“We need to go,” Ramsay pulled you back. “We need to leave right now.”

“What happened?” Domeric repeated. Ramsay pulled you away from the scene and into the hallway on the top floor. 

“Petyr Baelish just murdered Lysa Arryn. He pushed her over the balcony.”

“What the hell?!” Domeric shouted. “Yellow—

“I’m already on it,” Yellow reported. “Her body hit the ground hard. There’s increasing police activity and many witnesses. I’m alerting the entire team. Everyone needs to leave now!” You couldn’t believe your eyes. Petyr married this woman, only to kill her in the end. How far would he go? Would he have you killed too?

“Y/N, where’s the rooftop entrance?” Ramsay snapped you out of it. “Show me where, come on.” You tried to remember as quick as you could. You broke into a sprint heading towards the rooftop entrance. Ramsay ran beside you to keep up with the pace, but you heard another set of feet behind you. Your arm was tugged and you nearly fell. A hand went over your mouth. Ramsay pointed his gun immediately at your attacker.

“You were so close, Y/N,” you heard Petyr say. His gun tucked under your chin. “So, so close. But the pretty bird must be caged.” He moved his hand to move your hair. He ripped out the earpiece. You winced in pain.

“You don’t want to play this game, Petyr,” Ramsay warned. “Not with me.”

“Oh, but you do play games,” Petyr said. “How long have you planned this one? A year? Months?” 

“Don’t,” Ramsay warned. 

“I don’t blame you, dear,” Petyr said into your ear. You could feel his barely there facial hair on your cheek. “I play my games, but Ramsay, oh yes, Ramsay plays his games so well that you don’t know you’re his pawn until he’s thrown you away.”

“What are you talking about?” you said, struggling against Petyr. “What’s games have to do with any of this?”

“Oh you don’t know?” Petyr half-laughed. You looked between both Ramsay and Petyr. Ramsay’s eyes stood still.

“Go on then,” he said. “Tell her, if you think you’re so smart.” Petyr smiled.

“Ros was planned for Ramsay. We had arranged this before the party,” Petyr explained. 

“I know,” you huffed, thinking this was all a waste of time. Your fingers searched for some sort of sharp object.

“But things change. Sometimes plans change,” Petyr found your hands wandering and kept them in his grasp, not letting you move. “Sometimes assassins would do anything to get to their enemy. Kill someone. Maybe pretend to fall in love.”

“What?” you reacted.

“You think he loves you? This is all an act for him. This is how Ramsay has fun. He plays with people, Y/N. He never loved you. You were only his pawn to get information on me.” The words hit you hard. You looked to Ramsay who stayed still. His gun still pointed at both you and Petyr.

“Is that true?” you asked the question.

“Yes,” Ramsay cocked his eyebrow and then he dropped it. “Charlotte wasn’t making any progress. She was stuck. She asked for my help and told me you were Petyr’s absolute favorite and his possible weakest link.”

“So you see,” Petyr’s snake tone took over. “He wants nothing to do with you.”

“That’s not true,” Ramsay walked closer. Petyr stepped back, giving him a look. Ramsay stopped and set the gun down. His hands raised. “I love you. Do you hear me?”

“He abandoned you,” Petyr reminded you. “He left you with Brad.”

“I love you,” Ramsay said louder.

“He’s such a good lair.”

“I need you.”

“He manipulated you.”

“He plans to kill you,” Ramsay’s eyes narrowed at him. Petyr saved you from death and gave you a career. He gave you a home, a family, and he gave you everything you needed. Ramsay was a professional assassin. You were his unknowing pawn in his game, but he loved you. You loved him. 

The two most important men in your life faced each other with guns pointed at each other, and you were caught in the middle of it all. You felt hurt because you fell in love with someone who was using you. You felt disgusted with yourself because you let yourself fall in love in the first place. You felt scared because the man who made you was also the man about to kill you. 

“You could be great you know?” Petyr said into your ear. “I could forgive you for what you did to me. You could be famous.”

Fame. Wealth. That meant exposure. That meant no more fucking strange men. That meant security.

“I could give you anything you wanted.” Petyr was right. He owned the Vale and all of the money that went with it. You could have it all. “I could get rid of people like him. He will never hurt you ever again.” Petyr pointed at Ramsay.

Ramsay never moved or wavered. He kept his hands up and away from his gun. His eyes looked at you with some sort of emotion you couldn’t read. Ever since he came into your life you had been beaten, lied to, used, cheated, raped, and almost killed. A life with Ramsay wouldn’t be the dream you thought of earlier. It would be in constant fear.

“Why aren’t you saying anything?” you yelled at him. 

“Because he’s right. He can give you all of those things,” Ramsay said. “But, I can give you something Petyr can’t.”

“What?” you asked him. 

“You already know what it is,” Ramsay told you. The kiss by his car. The first time you made love in Chicago. How he killed off Mr. Kress. How he killed off a lot of your clients. Why he didn’t contact you. Charlotte knew. Domeric knew. You knew.

He loved you. 

“It’s your choice, Y/N,” Ramsay said. “Are you his Pretty Bird or do you want to be a Red King?”

The choice hung in the balance. Do you choose to be safe and sound with wealth, fame, and power? To spend your days like you’ve always wanted without drama or worry? Or do you choose to be with him? Someone who cared enough to listen to you. Someone who loved you. Someone you loved back. You felt your back grow tense every second that passed by. Two liars stood on either side. Both of them had used you and put you in danger. Both of them had saved you. The decision increasing grew harder to make. 

You looked to Ramsay. His hair was a mess. His blue eyes looked into yours. His shirt was stained and torn. His boots took no beating, and you could hints of his tattoos everywhere. You saw a bit of the eagle on his chest, and the X mark on his left hand. But there was something else on his left hand.

It looked new, and at first you could make it out. But that’s when you realized what it was. There, on his left hand, along a side of the large “X” mark was your name tattooed on him. 

You knew exactly what to do.

You kicked back into Petyr’s leg, and grabbed his gun. You shot him in his foot and he let you go. You booked it towards Ramsay and the exit. You made your choice, and you were going to make it out alive. 

“Charlotte! Are you still there?” you shouted into the radio, Ramsay hot at your back.

“We left! We had to!” Charlotte explained. You could hear loud feedback from her end. “We couldn’t wait any longer you two!” You stopped in your tracks. The rooftop was no longer an option. 

“We can’t go down, it would take too long,” you thought out loud. Ramsay kept you moving.

“We’re getting out of here,’ Ramsay muttered. “I’m going to get out of here.” Ramsay busted into a room and smashed the windows open. Glass shattered down towards the streets. “Charlotte bring the copter around the south side of the building. Near the top floor there’s a smashed window.”

“What are we doing?” you asked.

“We can’t go up and we can’t go down,” Ramsay gestured to the smashed window. “So we’re doing this.”

“This is crazy!” you looked down, seeing how high you truly were. You heard a helicopter come near the window. Domeric pulled the doors open and they pulled as close as they could to the building.

“You guys need to leave! Police have noticed the big fucking helicopter hover at the side of the casino!” Yellow screamed. Domeric held out his hand. You looked to Ramsay worried.

“Ramsay—

Before you could finish your sentence, Ramsay grabbed you again by your waist and threw both of you out the window and onto the railings of the copter. Ramsay threw you inside, and almost lost his balance. His brother grabbed him and threw him inside. The door closed and Charlotte pulled away from the Vale. 

You coughed and coughed until you caught your breath and sat up. You made it out. You were safe. You were gone. Ramsay sat up and embraced you tight placing a kiss on your forehead. Domeric gave you both a set of headphones to wear as you both sat down in the seats and buckled yourselves in.

“We did it,” you placed your forehead against his. “We made it out!”

“Yes, but Petyr’s still alive,” Ramsay grimaced. “I wanted him dead, the cunt.” You reached for Ramsay’s hand. He let you hold it as you looked at your name in his skin. The cursive writing was perfect. Ramsay kissed your head again and brought you closer to him.

“When did you get this?” you asked him.

“When I knew,” Ramsay answered.

“When you knew what?”

“When I knew I loved you. You’re mine, Y/N. You’re my Red Queen,” Ramsay leaned against you. You let yourself relax and breathe. Looking out the window, there was so much to think about. 

“What happens now?” you asked Ramsay. He squeezed your hand and smiled.

“You begin your training, my lady.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please go to (https://crowkingwrites.tumblr.com/) for a very special announcement regarding Bang Bang!


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